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  Stanley had also tried to explain that he needed to save his energy so he could teach Zero how to read, but the other boys just mocked him. "Same old story, ain t it, Armpit?" X-Ray had said. "The white boy sits around while the black boy does all the work. Ain t that right, Caveman?" "No, that s not right," Stanley replied. "No, it ain t," X-Ray agreed. "It ain t right at all." Stanley dug out another shovelful of dirt. He knew X-Ray wouldn t have been talking like that if he was the one teaching Zero to read. Then X-Ray would be talking about how important it was that he got his rest, right? So he could be a better teacher, right? And that was true. He did need to save his strength so he could be a better teacher, although Zero was a quick learner. Sometimes, in fact, Stanley hoped the Warden was watching them, with her secret cameras and microphones, so she d know that Zero wasn t as stupid as everyone thought. From across the lake he could see the approaching dust cloud. He took a drink from his canteen, then waited to see who was driving the truck. The swelling on Mr. Sir s face had gone down, but it was still a little puffy. There had been three scratch marks down his cheek. Two of the marks had faded, but the middle scratch must have been the deepest, because it still remained. It was a jagged purple line running from below his eye to below his mouth, like a tattoo of a scar. Stanley waited in line, then handed him his canteen. Mr. Sir held it up to his ear and shook it. He smiled at the swishing sound. Stanley hoped he wouldn t dump it out. To his surprise, Mr. Sir held the canteen under the stream of water and filled it. "Wait here," he said. Still holding Stanley s canteen, Mr. Sir walked past him, then went around the side of the truck and into the cab, where he couldn t be seen. "What s he doing in there?" asked Zero. "I wish I knew," said Stanley. A short while later, Mr. Sir came out of the truck and handed Stanley his canteen. It was still full. "Thank you, Mr. Sir." Mr. Sir smiled at him. "What are you waiting for?" he asked. "Drink up." He popped some sunflower seeds into his mouth, chewed, and spit out the shells. Stanley was afraid to drink it. He hated to think what land of vile substance Mr. Sir might have put in it. 53 He brought the canteen back to his hole. For a long time, he left it beside his hole as he continued to dig. Then, when he was so thirsty that he could hardly stand it anymore, he unscrewed the cap, turned the canteen over, and poured it all out onto the dirt. He was afraid that if he d waited another second, he might have taken a drink. After Stanley taught Zero the final six letters of the alphabet, he taught him to write his name. "Capital Z-e-r-o." Zero wrote the letters as Stanley said them. "Zero," he said, looking at his piece of paper. His smile was too big for his face. Stanley watched him write it over and over again. Zero Zero Zero Zero Zero Zero Zero . . . In a way, it made him sad. He couldn t help but think that a hundred times zero was still nothing. "You know, that s not my real name," Zero said as they headed to the Wreck Room for dinner. "Well, yeah," Stanley said, "I guess I knew that." He had never really been sure. "Everyone s always called me Zero, even before I came here." "Oh. Okay." "My real name is Hector." "Hector," Stanley repeated. "Hector Zeroni." 28 After twenty years, Kate Barlow returned to Green Lake. It was a place where nobody would ever find her? a ghost town on a ghost lake. The peach trees had all died, but there were a couple of small oak trees still growing by an old abandoned cabin. The cabin used to be on the eastern shore of the lake. Now the edge of the lake was over five miles away, and it was little more than a small pond full of dirty water. She lived in the cabin. Sometimes she could hear Sam s voice echoing across the emptiness. "Onions! Sweet fresh onions." She knew she was crazy. She knew she d been crazy for the last twenty years. "Oh, Sam," she would say, speaking into the vast emptiness. "I know it is hot, but I feel so very cold. My hands are cold. My feet are cold. My face is cold. My heart is cold." And sometimes she would hear him say, "I can fix that," and she d feel his warm arm across her shoulders. She d been living in the cabin about three months when she was awakened one morning by someone kicking open the cabin door. She opened her eyes to see the blurry end of a rifle, two inches from her nose. She could smell Trout Walker s dirty feet. 54 "You ve got exactly ten seconds to tell me where you ve hidden your loot," said Trout. "Or else I ll blow your head off." She yawned. A redheaded woman was there with Trout. Kate could see her rummaging through the cabin, dumping drawers and knocking things from the shelves of cabinets. The woman came to her. "Where is it?" she demanded. "Linda Miller?" asked Kate. "Is that you?" Linda Miller had been in the fourth grade when Kate Barlow was still a teacher. She had been a cute freckle-faced girl with beautiful red hair. Now her face was blotchy, and her hair was dirty and scraggly. "It s Linda Walker now," said Trout. "Oh, Linda, I m so sorry," said Kate. Trout jabbed her throat with the rifle. "Where s the loot?" "There is no loot," said Kate. "Don t give me that!" shouted Trout. "You ve robbed every bank from here to Houston." "You better tell him," said Linda. "We re desperate." "You married him for his money, didn t you?" asked Kate. Linda nodded. "But it s all gone. It dried up with the lake. The peach trees. The livestock. I kept thinking It has to rain soon. The drought can t last forever. But it just kept getting hotter and hotter and hotter . . ." Her eyes fixed on the shovel, which was leaning up against the fireplace. "She s buried it!" she declared. "I don t know what you re talking about," said Kate. There was a loud blast as Trout fired his rifle just above her head. The window behind her shattered. "Where s it buried?" he demanded. "Go ahead and kill me, Trout," said Kate. "But I sure hope you like to dig. Cause you re going to be digging for a long time. It s a big vast wasteland out there. You, and your children, and their children, can dig for the next hundred years and you ll never find it." Linda grabbed Kate s hair and jerked her head back. "Oh, we re not going to kill you," she said. "But by the time we re finished with you, you re going to wish you were dead." "I ve been wishing I was dead for the last twenty years," said Kate. They dragged her out of bed and pushed her outside. She wore blue silk pajamas. Her turquoise-studded black boots remained beside her bed. They loosely tied her legs together so she could walk, but she couldn t run. They made her walk barefoot on the hot ground. They wouldn t let her stop walking. "Not until you take us to the loot," said Trout. Linda hit Kate on the back of her legs with the shovel. "You re going to take us to it sooner or later. So you might as well make it sooner." She walked one way, then the other, until her feet were black and blistered. Whenever she stopped, Linda whacked her with the shovel. "I m losing my patience," warned Trout. 55 She felt the shovel jab into her back, and she fell onto hard dirt. "Get up!" ordered Linda. Kate struggled to her feet. "We re being easy on you today," said Trout. "It s just going to keep getting worse and worse for you until you take us to it." "Look out!" shouted Linda. A lizard leaped toward them. Kate could see its big red eyes. Linda tried to hit it with the shovel, and Trout shot at it, but they both missed. The lizard landed on Kate s bare ankle. Its sharp black teeth bit into her leg. Its white tongue lapped up the droplets of blood that leaked out of the wound. Kate smiled. There was nothing they could do to her anymore. "Start digging," she said. "Where is it?" Linda screeched. "Where d you bury it?" Trout demanded. Kate Barlow died laughing. PART TWO THE LAST HOLE 29 There was a change in the weather. For the worse. The air became unbearably humid. Stanley was drenched in sweat. Beads of moisture ran down the handle of his shovel. It was almost as if the temperature had gotten so hot that the air itself was sweating. A loud boom of thunder echoed across the empty lake. A storm was way off to the west, beyond the mountains. Stanley could count more than thirty seconds between the flash of lightning and the clap of thunder. That was how far away the storm was. Sound travels a great distance across a barren wasteland. Usually, Stanley couldn t see the mountains at this time of day. The only time they were visible was just at sunup, before the air became hazy. Now, however, the sky was very dark off to the west, and every time the lightning flashed, the dark shape of the mountains would briefly appear. "C mon, rain!" shouted Armpit. "Blow this way!" "Maybe it ll rain so hard it will fill up the whole lake," said Squid. "We can go swimming." "Forty days and forty nights," said X-Ray. "Guess we better start building us an ark. Get two of each animal, right?" "Right," said Zigzag. "Two rattlesnakes. Two scorpions. Two yellow-spotted lizards." 56 The humidity, or maybe the electricity in the air, had made Zigzag s head even more wild-looking. His frizzy blond hair stuck almost straight out. The horizon lit up with a huge web of lightning. In that split second Stanley thought he saw an unusual rock formation on top of one of the mountain peaks. The peak looked to him exactly like a giant fist, with the thumb sticking straight up. Then it was gone. And Stanley wasn t sure whether he d seen it or not. "I found refuge on God s thumb." That was what his great-grandfather had supposedly said after Kate Barlow had robbed him and left him stranded in the desert. No one ever knew what he meant by that. He was delirious when he said it. "But how could he live for three weeks without food or water?" Stanley had asked his father. "I don t know. I wasn t there," replied his father. "I wasn t born yet. My father wasn t born yet. My grandmother, your great-grandmother, was a nurse in the hospital where they treated him. He d always talked about how she d dab his forehead with a cool wet cloth. He said that s why he fell in love with her. He thought she was an angel." "A real angel?" His father didn t know. "What about after he got better? Did he ever say what he meant by God s thumb, or how he survived?" "No. He just blamed his no-good-pig-stealing-father." The storm moved off farther west, along with any hope of rain. But the image of the fist and thumb remained in Stanley s head. Although, instead of lightning flashing behind the thumb, in Stanley s mind, the lightning was coming out of the thumb, as if it were the thumb of God. 30 The next day was Zigzag s birthday. Or so he said. Zigzag lay in his cot as everyone headed outside. "I get to sleep in, because it s my birthday." Then a little while later he cut into the breakfast line, just in front of Squid. Squid told him to go to the end of the line. "Hey, it s my birthday," Zigzag said, staying where he was. "It s not your birthday," said Magnet, who was standing behind Squid. "Is too," said Zigzag. "July 8." Stanley was behind Magnet. He didn t know what day of the week it was, let alone the date. It could have been July 8, but how would Zigzag know? He tried to figure out how long he d been at Camp Green Lake, if indeed it was July 8. "I came here on May 24," he said aloud. "So that means I ve been here . . ." "Forty-six days," said Zero. 57 Stanley was still trying to remember how many days there were in May and June. He looked at Zero. He d learned not to doubt him when it came to math. Forty-six days. It felt more like a thousand. He didn t dig a hole that first day, and he hadn t dug one yet today. That meant he d dug forty-four holes? if it really was July 8. "Can I have an extra carton of juice?" Zigzag asked Mr. Sir. "It s my birthday." To everyone s surprise, Mr. Sir gave it to him. Stanley dug his shovel into the dirt. Hole number 45. "The forty-fifth hole is the hardest," he said to himself. But that really wasn t true, and he knew it. He was a lot stronger than when he first arrived. His body had adjusted somewhat to the heat and harsh conditions. Mr. Sir was no longer depriving him of water. After having to get by on less water for a week or so, Stanley now felt like he had all the water he could want. Of course it helped that Zero dug some of his hole for him each day, but that wasn t as great as everyone thought it was. He always felt awkward while Zero was digging his hole, unsure of what to do with himself. Usually he stood around awhile, before sitting off by himself on the hard ground, with the sun beating down on him. It was better than digging. But not a lot better. When the sun came up a couple of hours later, Stanley looked for "the thumb of God." The mountains were little more than dark shadows on the horizon. He thought he could make out a spot where the top of one mountain seemed to jut upward, but it didn t seem very impressive. A short time later the mountains were no longer visible, hidden behind the glare of the sun, reflecting off the dirty air. It was possible, he realized, that he was somewhere near where Kate Barlow had robbed his great-grandfather. If that was really her lipstick tube he d found, then she must have lived somewhere around here. Zero took his turn before the lunch break. Stanley climbed out of his hole, and Zero climbed down into it. "Hey, Caveman," said Zigzag. "You should get a whip. Then if your slave doesn t dig fast enough, you can crack it across his back." "He s not my slave," said Stanley. "We have a deal, that s all." "A good deal for you," said Zigzag. "It was Zero s idea, not mine." "Don t you know, Zig?" said X-Ray, coming over. "Caveman s doing Zero a big favor. Zero likes to dig holes." "He sure is a nice guy to let Zero dig his hole for him," said Squid. "Well, what about me?" asked Armpit. "I like to dig holes, too. Can I dig for you, Caveman, after Zero s finished?" The other boys laughed. "No, I want to," said Zigzag. "It s my birthday." Stanley tried his best to ignore them. Zigzag kept at it. "Come on, Caveman. Be a pal. Let me dig your hole." 58 Stanley smiled, as if it were all a big joke. When Mr. Pendanski arrived with water" and lunch, Zigzag offered Stanley his place in line. "Since you re so much better than me." Stanley remained where he was. "I didn t say I was bet? " "You re insulting him, Zig," said X-Ray. "Why should Caveman take your place, when he deserves to be at the very front? He s better than all of us. Aren t you, Caveman?" "No," said Stanley. "Sure you are," said X-Ray. "Now come to the front of the line where you belong." "That s okay," said Stanley. "No, it s not okay," said X-Ray. "Get up here." Stanley hesitated, then moved to the front of the line. "Well, this is a first," Mr. Pendanski said, coming around the side of the truck. He filled Stanley s canteen and handed him a sack lunch. Stanley was glad to get away. He sat down between his hole and Zero s. He was glad that he d be digging his own hole for the rest of the day. Maybe the other boys would leave him alone. Maybe he shouldn t let Zero dig his hole for him anymore. But he needed to save his energy to be a good teacher. He bit into his sandwich, which contained some kind of meat-and-cheese mixture that came in a can. Just about everything at Green Lake came in a can. The supply truck came once a month. He glanced up to see Zigzag and Squid walking toward him. "I ll give you my cookie if you let me dig your hole," said Zigzag. Squid laughed. "Here, take my cookie," said Zigzag, holding it out for him. "No, thanks," said Stanley. "C mon, take my cookie," said Zigzag, sticking it in his face. "Leave me alone," said Stanley. "Please eat my cookie," said Zigzag, holding it under Stanley s nose. Squid laughed. Stanley pushed it away. Zigzag pushed him back. "Don t push me!" "I didn t . . ." Stanley got to his feet. He looked around. Mr. Pendanski was filling Zero s canteen. Zigzag pushed him again. "I said, Don t push me. " Stanley took a step backward, carefully avoiding Zero s hole. Zigzag kept after him. He shoved Stanley and said, "Quit pushing!" "Lay off," said Armpit, as he, Magnet, and X-Ray joined them. "Why should he?" snapped X-Ray. "Caveman s bigger. He can take care of himself." "I don t want any trouble," Stanley said. Zigzag pushed him hard. "Eat my cookie," he said. Stanley was glad to see Mr. Pendanski coming toward them, along with Zero. "Hi, Mom," said Armpit. "We were just fooling around." 59 "I saw what was going on," Mr. Pendanski said. He turned to Stanley. "Go ahead, Stanley," he said. "Hit him back. You re bigger." Stanley stared at Mr. Pendanski in astonishment. "Teach the bully a lesson," said Mr. Pendanski. Zigzag hit Stanley on the shoulder with his open hand. "Teach me a lesson," he challenged. Stanley made a feeble attempt to punch Zigzag, then he felt a flurry of fists against his head and neck. Zigzag had hold of his collar with one hand and was hitting him with the other. The collar ripped and Stanley fell backward onto the dirt. "That s enough!" Mr. Pendanski yelled. It wasn t enough for Zigzag. He jumped on top of Stanley. "Stop!" shouted Mr. Pendanski. The side of Stanley s face was pressed flat against the dirt. He tried to protect himself, but Zigzag s fists slammed off his arms and pounded his face into the ground. All he could do was wait for it to be over. Then, suddenly, Zigzag was off of him. Stanley managed to look up, and he saw that Zero had his arm around Zigzag s long neck. Zigzag made a gagging sound, as he desperately tried to pry Zero s arm off of him. "You re going to kill him!" shouted Mr. Pendanski. Zero kept squeezing. Armpit charged into them, freeing Zigzag from Zero s choke hold. The three boys fell to the ground in different directions. Mr. Pendanski fired his pistol into the air. The other counselors came running from the office, the tents, or out on the lake. They had their guns drawn, but holstered them when they saw the trouble was over. The Warden walked over from her cabin. "There was a riot," Mr. Pendanski told her. "Zero almost strangled Ricky." The Warden looked at Zigzag, who was still stretching and massaging his neck. Then she turned her attention to Stanley, who was obviously in the worst condition. "What happened to you?" "Nothing. It wasn t a riot." "Ziggy was beating up the Caveman," said Armpit. "Then Zero started choking Zigzag, and I had to pull Zero off of Zigzag. It was all over before Mom fired his gun." "They just got a little hot, that s all," said X-Ray. "You know how it is. In the sun all day. People get hot, right? But everything s cool now." "I see," the Warden said. She turned to Zigzag. "What s the matter? Didn t you get a puppy for your birthday?" "Zig s just a little hot," said X-Ray. "Out in the sun all day. You know how it is. The blood starts to boil." "Is that what happened, Zigzag?" asked the Warden. "Yeah," said Zigzag. "Like X-Ray said. Working so hard in the hot sun, while Caveman just sits around doing nothing. My blood boiled." 60 "Excuse me?" said the Warden. "Caveman digs his holes, just like everyone else." Zigzag shrugged. "Sometimes." "Excuse me?" "Zero s been digging part of Caveman s hole every day," said Squid. The Warden looked from Squid to Stanley to Zero. "I m teaching him to read and write," said Stanley. "It s sort of a trade. The hole still gets dug, so what does it matter who digs it?" "Excuse me?" said the Warden. "Isn t it more important for him to learn to read?" Stanley asked. "Doesn t that build character more than digging holes?" "That s his character," said the Warden. "What about your character?" Stanley raised and lowered one shoulder. The Warden turned to Zero. "Well, Zero, what have you learned so far?" Zero said nothing. "Have you just been digging Caveman s hole for nothing?" the Warden asked him. "He likes to dig holes," said Mr. Pendanski. "Tell me what you learned yesterday," said the Warden. "Surely you can remember that." Zero said nothing. Mr. Pendanski laughed. He picked up a shovel and said, "You might as well try to teach this shovel to read! It s got more brains than Zero." "The at sound," said Zero. "The at sound," repeated the Warden. "Well then, tell me, what does c-a-t spell?" Zero glanced around uneasily. Stanley knew he knew the answer. Zero just didn t like answering questions. "Cat," Zero said. Mr. Pendanski clapped his hands. "Bravo! Bravo! The boy s a genius!" "F-a-t?" asked the Warden. Zero thought a moment. Stanley hadn t taught him the "f" sound yet. "Eff," Zero whispered. "Eff-at. Fat." "How about h-a-t?" asked the Warden. Stanley hadn t taught him the "h" sound either. Zero concentrated hard, then said, "Chat." All the counselors laughed. "He s a genius, all right!" said Mr. Pendanski. "He s so stupid, he doesn t even know he s stupid." Stanley didn t know why Mr. Pendanski seemed to have it in for Zero. If Mr. Pendanski only thought about it, he d realize it was very logical for Zero to think that the letter "h" made the "ch" sound. "Okay, from now on, I don t want anyone digging anyone else s hole," said the Warden. "And no more reading lessons." "I m not digging another hole," said Zero. 61 "Good," said the Warden. She turned to Stanley. "You know why you re digging holes? Because it s good for you. It teaches you a lesson. If Zero digs your hole for you, then you re not learning your lesson, are you?" "I guess not," Stanley mumbled, although he knew they weren t digging just to learn a lesson. She was looking for something, something that belonged to Kissin Kate Barlow. "Why can t I dig my own hole, but still teach Zero to read?" he asked. "What s wrong with that?" "I ll tell you what s wrong with that," the Warden said. "It leads to trouble. Zero almost killed Zigzag." "It causes him stress," said Mr. Pendanski. "I know you mean well, Stanley, but face it. Zero s too stupid to learn to read. That s what makes his blood boil. Not the hot sun." "I m not digging another hole," said Zero. Mr. Pendanski handed him the shovel. "Here, take it, Zero. It s all you ll ever be good for." Zero took the shovel. Then he swung it like a baseball bat. The metal blade smashed across Mr. Pendanski s face. His knees crumpled beneath him. He was unconscious before he hit the ground. The counselors all drew their guns. Zero held the shovel out in front of him, as if he were going to try to bat away the bullets. "I hate digging holes," he said. Then he slowly backed away. "Don t shoot him," said the Warden. "He can t go anywhere. The last thing we need is an investigation." Zero kept backing up, out past the cluster of holes the boys had been digging, then farther and farther out onto the lake. "He s going to have to come back for water," the Warden said. Stanley noticed Zero s canteen lying on the ground near his hole. A couple of the counselors helped Mr. Pendanski to his feet and into the truck. Stanley looked out toward Zero, but he had disappeared into the haze. The Warden ordered the counselors to take turns guarding the shower room and Wreck Room, all day and all night. They were not to let Zero drink any water. When he returned, he was to be brought directly to her. She examined her fingernails and said, "It s almost time for me to paint my nails again." Before she left, she told the six remaining members of Group D that she still expected seven holes. 31 Stanley angrily dug his shovel into the dirt. He was angry at everyone? Mr. Pendanski, the Warden, Zigzag, X-Ray, and his 62 no-good-dirty-rotten-pig-stealing-great-great-grandfather. But mostly he was angry at himself. He knew he never should have let Zero dig part of his hole for him. He still could have taught him to read. If Zero could dig all day and still have the strength to learn, then he should have been able to dig all day and still have the strength to teach. What he should do, he thought, was go out after Zero. But he didn t. None of the others helped him dig Zero s hole, and he didn t expect them to. Zero had been helping him dig his hole. Now he had to dig Zero s. He remained out on the lake, digging during the hottest part of the day, long after everyone else had gone in. He kept an eye out for Zero, but Zero didn t come back. It would have been easy to go out after Zero. There was nobody to stop him. He kept thinking that s what he should do. Maybe they could climb to the top of Big Thumb. If it wasn t too far away. And if it was really the same place where his great-grandfather found refuge. And if, after a hundred years or so, water was still there. It didn t seem likely. Not when an entire lake had gone dry. And even if they did find refuge on Big Thumb, he thought, they d still have to come back here, eventually. Then they d both have to face the Warden, and her rattlesnake fingers. Instead, he came up with a better idea, although he didn t have it quite all figured out yet. He thought that maybe he could make a deal with the Warden. He d tell her where he really found the gold tube if she wouldn t scratch Zero. He wasn t sure how he d make this deal without getting himself in deeper trouble. She might just say, Tell me where you found it or I ll scratch you, too. Plus, it would mean X-Ray would get in trouble, too. She d probably scratch him up as well. X-Ray would be out to get him for the next sixteen months. He dug his shovel into the dirt. By the next morning, Zero still hadn t returned. Stanley saw one of the counselors sitting guard by the water spigot outside the shower wall. Mr. Pendanski had two black eyes and a bandage over his nose. "I always knew he was stupid," Stanley heard him say. Stanley was required to dig only one hole the next day. As he dug, he kept a constant watchout for Zero, but never saw him. Once again he considered going out on the lake to look for him, but he began to realize that it was already too late. His only hope was that Zero had found God s thumb on his own. It wasn t impossible. His great-grandfather had found it. For some reason his great-grandfather had felt the urge to climb to the top of that mountain. Maybe Zero would feel the same urge. If it was the same mountain. If water was still there. 63 He tried to convince himself it wasn t impossible. There had been a storm just a few days ago. Maybe Big Thumb was actually some kind of natural water tower that caught and stored the rain. It wasn t impossible. He returned to his tent to find the Warden, Mr. Sir, and Mr. Pendanski all waiting for him. "Have you seen Zero?" the Warden asked him. "No." "No sign of him at all?" "No." "Do you have any idea where he went?" "No." "You know you re not doing him any favors if you re lying," said Mr. Sir. "He can t survive out there for more than a day or two." "I don t know where he is." All three stared at Stanley as if they were trying to figure out if he was telling the truth. Mr. Pendanski s face was so swollen, he could barely open his eyes. They were just slits. "You sure he has no family?" the Warden asked Mr. Pendanski. "He s a ward of the state," Mr. Pendanski told her. "He was living on the streets when he was arrested." "Is there anyone who might ask questions? Some social worker who took an interest in him?" "He had nobody," said Mr. Pendanski. "He was nobody." The Warden thought a moment. "Okay, I want you to destroy all of his records." Mr. Pendanski nodded. "He was never here," said the Warden. Mr. Sir nodded. "Can you get into the state files from our computer?" she asked Mr. Pendanski. "I don t want anyone in the A.G. s office to know he was here." "I don t think I can erase him completely from all the state files," said Mr. Pendanski. "Too many cross-references. But I can make it so it would be very difficult for anyone to ever find a record of him. Like I said, though, no one will ever look. No one cares about Hector Zeroni." "Good," said the Warden. 32 Two days later a new kid was assigned to Group D. His name was Brian, but X-Ray called him Twitch because he was always fidgeting. Twitch was assigned Zero s bed, and Zero s crate. Vacancies don t last long at Camp Green Lake. 64 Twitch had been arrested for stealing a car. He claimed he could break into a car, disconnect the alarm, and hot-wire the engine, all in less than a minute. "I never plan to, you know, steal one," he told them. "But sometimes, you know, I ll be walking past a real nice car, parked in a deserted area, and, you know, I ll just start twitching. If you think I twitch now, you should see me when I m around a car. The next thing I know, I m behind the wheel." Stanley lay on his scratchy sheets. It occurred to him that his cot no longer smelled bad. He wondered if the smell had gone away, or if he had just gotten used to it. "Hey, Caveman," said Twitch. "Do we really have to get up at 4 30?" "You get used to it," Stanley told him. "It s the coolest part of the day." He tried not to think about Zero. It was too late. Either he d made it to Big Thumb, or . . . What worried him the most, however, wasn t that it was too late. What worried him the most, what really ate at his insides, was the fear that it wasn t too late. What if Zero was still alive, desperately crawling across the dirt searching for water? He tried to force the image out of his mind. The next morning, out on the lake, Stanley listened as Mr. Sir told Twitch the requirements for his hole ". . . as wide and as deep as your shovel." Twitch fidgeted. His fingers drummed against the wooden shaft of his shovel, and his neck moved from side to side. "You won t be twitching so much after digging all day," Mr. Sir told him. "You won t have the strength to wiggle your pinkie." He popped some sunflower seeds in his mouth, deftly chewed them, and spat out the shells. "This isn t a Girl Scout camp." The water truck came shortly after sunrise. Stanley got in line behind Magnet, ahead of Twitch. What if it s not too late? He watched Mr. Sir fill X-Ray s canteen. The image of Zero crawling across the hot dry dirt remained in his head. But what could he do about it? Even if Zero was somehow alive after more than four days, how would Stanley ever find him? It would take days. He d need a car. Or a pickup truck. A pickup truck with a tank of water in the back. Stanley wondered if Mr. Sir had left the keys in the ignition. He slowly backed away from the line, then circled over to the side of the truck. He looked through the window. The keys were there, dangling in the ignition. Stanley felt his fingers start to twitch. He took a deep breath to steady himself and tried to think clearly. He had never driven before. But how hard could it be? This is really crazy, he told himself. Whatever he did, he knew he d have to do it quickly, before Mr. Sir noticed. It s too late, he told himself. Zero couldn t have survived. But what if it wasn t too late? 65 He took another deep breath. Think about this, he told himself, but there wasn t time to think. He flung open the door to the truck and climbed quickly inside. "Hey!" shouted Mr. Sir. He turned the key and stepped on the gas pedal. The engine revved. The truck didn t move. He pressed the pedal to the floor. The engine roared, but the truck was motionless. Mr. Sir came running around the side of the truck. The door was still open. "Put it in gear!" shouted Twitch. The gear shift was on the floor next to the seat. Stanley pulled the lever back until the arrow pointed to the letter D, for Drive. The truck lurched forward. Stanley jerked back against the seat and tightly gripped the wheel as the truck accelerated. His foot was pressed to the floor. The truck went faster and faster across the dry lake bed. It bounced over a pile of dirt. Suddenly Stanley was slammed forward, then instantly backward as an airbag exploded in his face. He fell out of the open door and onto the ground. He had driven straight into a hole. He lay on the dirt staring at the truck, which stuck lopsided into the ground. He sighed. He couldn t blame his no-good-dirty-rotten-pig-stealing-great-great-grandfather this time. This time it was his own fault, one hundred percent. He had probably just done the stupidest thing he had ever done in his short and miserable life. He managed to get to his feet. He was sore but didn t think he had broken any bones. He glanced back at Mr. Sir, who remained where he was, staring at Stanley. He ran. His canteen was strapped around his neck. It banged against his chest as he ran, and every time it hit against him, it reminded him that it was empty, empty, empty. 33 He slowed to a walk. As far as he could tell, nobody was chasing him. He could hear voices coming from back by the truck but couldn t make out the words. Occasionally he d hear the revving of the engine, but the truck wasn t going anywhere anytime soon. He headed in what he thought was the direction of Big Thumb. He couldn t see it through the haze. Walking helped calm him down and allowed him to think clearly. He doubted he could make it to Big Thumb, and with no water in his canteen, he didn t want to risk his life on the hope that he d find refuge there. He d have to return to camp. He knew that. But he was in no hurry. It would be better to return later, after everyone had a chance to calm down. And as long as he d come this far, he might as well look for Zero. He decided he would walk as long as he could, until he was too weak to go any farther, then he d turn around and go back. He smiled as he realized that wouldn t quite work. He would only go halfway? halfway as far as he thought he could go, so that he d still have the strength to 66 return. Then he d have to make a deal with the Warden, tell her where he found Kate Barlow s lipstick tube, and beg for mercy. He was surprised by how far out the holes extended. He couldn t even see the camp compound anymore, but he still kept passing holes. Just when he thought he d passed the last hole, he d come across another cluster of them, a little farther away. Back at the compound, they had dug in a systematic order, row upon row, allowing space for the water truck. But out here there was no system. It was as if every once in a while, in a fit of frustration, the Warden would just pick a spot at random, and say, "What the hell, dig here." It was like trying to guess the winning numbers in a lottery. Stanley found himself looking down into each hole he passed. He didn t admit to himself what he was looking for. After more than an hour had gone by, he thought he had surely seen the last hole, but then off to the left he saw another cluster of them. He didn t actually see the holes. He saw the mounds of dirt that surrounded them. He stepped over the mounds and looked into the first hole. His heart stopped. Down at the bottom was a family of yellow-spotted lizards. Their large red eyes looked up at him. He leapt back over the mound and ran. He didn t know if they were chasing after him. He thought he might have seen one leap out of the hole. He ran until he couldn t run any farther, then collapsed. They hadn t come after him. He sat there awhile and caught his breath. As he got back to his feet, he thought he noticed something on the ground, maybe fifty yards away. It didn t look like much, maybe just a big rock, but in a land of nothingness, any little thing seemed unusual. He walked slowly toward it. The encounter with the lizards had made him very cautious. It turned out to be an empty sack of sunflower seeds. He wondered if it was the same one Magnet had stolen from Mr. Sir, although that didn t seem likely. He turned it inside out and found one seed stuck to the burlap. Lunch. 34 The sun was almost directly overhead. He figured he could walk for no more than another hour, maybe two, before he had to turn back. It seemed pointless. He could see there was nothing ahead of him. Nothing but emptiness. He was hot, tired, hungry, and, most of all, thirsty. Maybe he should just turn around now. Maybe he d already gone halfway and didn t know it. Then, looking around, he saw a pool of water less than a hundred yards away from where he was standing. He closed his eyes and opened them to make sure he wasn t imagining it. The pool was still there. He hurried toward it. The pool hurried away from him, moving as he moved, stopping when he stopped. 67 There wasn t any water. It was a mirage caused by the shimmering waves of heat rising off the dry ground. He kept walking. He still carried the empty sack of sunflower seeds. He didn t know if he might find something to put in it. After a while he thought he could make out the shape of the mountains through the haze. At first he wasn t sure if this was another kind of mirage, but the farther he walked, the clearer they came into a view. Almost straight ahead of him, he could see what looked like a fist, with its thumb sticking up. He didn t know how far away it was. Five miles? Fifty miles? One thing was certain. It was more than halfway. He kept walking toward it, although he didn t know why. He knew he d have to turn around before he got there. But every time he looked at it, it seemed to encourage him, giving him the thumbs-up sign. As he continued walking, he became aware of a large object on the lake. He couldn t tell what it was, or even if it was natural or man-made. It looked a little like a fallen tree, although it didn t seem likely that a tree would grow here. More likely, it was a ridge of dirt or rocks. The object, whatever it was, was not on the way to Big Thumb but off to the right. He tried to decide whether to go to it or continue toward Big Thumb. Or maybe just turn around. There was no point in heading toward Big Thumb, he decided. He would never make it. For all he knew it was like chasing the moon. But he could make it to the mysterious object. He changed directions. He doubted it was anything, but the fact that there was something in the middle of all this nothing made it hard for him to pass up. He decided to make the object his halfway point, and he hoped he hadn t already gone too far. He laughed to himself when he saw what it was. It was a boat? or part of a boat anyway. It struck him as funny to see a boat in the middle of this dry and barren wasteland. But after all, he realized, this was once a lake. The boat lay upside down, half buried in the dirt. Someone may have drowned here, he thought grimly? at the same spot where he could very well die of thirst. The name of the boat had been painted on the back. The upside-down red letters were peeled and faded, but Stanley could still read the name Mary Lou. On one side of the boat there was a pile of dirt and then a tunnel leading down below the boat. The tunnel looked big enough for a good-sized animal to crawl through. He heard a noise. Something stirred under the boat. It was coming out. "Hey!" Stanley shouted, hoping to scare it back inside. His mouth was very dry, and it was hard to shout very loudly. "Hey," the thing answered weakly. Then a dark hand and an orange sleeve reached up out of the tunnel. 68 35 Zero s face looked like a jack-o -lantern that had been left out too many days past Halloween? half rotten, with sunken eyes and a drooping smile. "Is that water?" he asked. His voice was weak and raspy. His lips were so pale they were almost white, and his tongue seemed to flop around uselessly in his mouth as he spoke, as if it kept getting in the way. "It s empty," said Stanley. He stared at Zero, not quite believing that he was real. "I tried to bring you the whole water truck, but," he smiled sheepishly, "I drove it into a hole. I can t believe you re . . ." "Me neither," said Zero. "C mon, we got to get back to camp." Zero shook his head. "I m not going back." "You have to. We both have to." "You want some sploosh?" Zero asked. "What?" Zero shaded his eyes with his forearm. "It s cooler under the boat," he said. Stanley watched Zero crawl back through his hole. It was a miracle he was still alive, but Stanley knew he would have to get him back to camp soon, even if he had to carry him. He crawled after him, and was just able to squeeze his body through the hole. He never would have fit when he first came to Camp Green Lake. He d lost a lot of weight. As he pulled himself through, his leg struck something sharp and hard. It was a shovel. For a second Stanley wondered how it got there, but then remembered that Zero had taken it with him after striking Mr. Pendanski. It was cooler under the boat, which was half buried in the dirt. There were enough cracks and holes in the bottom of the boat, now the roof, to provide light and ventilation. He could see empty jars scattered about. Zero held a jar in his hand and grunted as he tried to unscrew the lid. "What is it?" "Sploosh!" His voice was strained as he worked on the jar. "That s what I call it. They were buried under the boat." He still couldn t get the lid off. "I found sixteen jars. Here, hand me the shovel." Stanley didn t have a lot of room to move. He reached behind him, grabbed the wooden end of the shovel, and held it out to Zero, blade first. "Sometimes you just have to . . ." Zero said, then he hit the jar against the blade of the shovel, breaking the top of the jar clean off. He quickly brought the jar to his mouth and licked the sploosh off the jagged edges before it spilled. "Careful," Stanley warned. Zero picked up the cracked lid and licked the sploosh off that as well. Then he handed the broken jar to Stanley. "Drink some." 69 Stanley held it in his hand and stared at it a moment. He was afraid of the broken glass. He was also afraid of the sploosh. It looked like mud. Whatever it was, he realized, it must have been in the boat when the boat sank. That meant it was probably over a hundred years old. Who knew what kind of bacteria might be living in it? "It s good," said Zero, encouraging him. He wondered if Zero had heard of bacteria. He raised the jar to his mouth and carefully took a sip. It was a warm, bubbly, mushy nectar, sweet and tangy. It felt like heaven as it flowed over his dry mouth and down his parched throat. He thought it might have been some kind of fruit at some time, perhaps peaches. Zero smiled at him. "I told you it was good." Stanley didn t want to drink too much, but it was too good to resist. They passed the jar back and forth until it was empty. "How many are left?" he asked. "None," said Zero. Stanley s mouth dropped. "Now I have to take you back," he said. "I m not digging any more holes," said Zero. "They won t make you dig," Stanley promised. "They ll probably send you to a hospital, like Barf Bag." "Barf Bag stepped on a rattlesnake," said Zero. Stanley remembered how he d almost done the same. "I guess he didn t hear the rattle." "He did it on purpose," said Zero. "You think?" "He took off his shoe and sock first." Stanley shivered as he tried to imagine it. "What s Mar-ya Luh-oh-oo?" asked Zero. "What?" Zero concentrated hard. "Mar ya, Luh oh oo." "I have no idea." "I ll show you," said Zero. He crawled hack out from under the boat. Stanley followed. Back outside, he had to shield his eyes from the brightness. Zero walked around to the back of the boat and pointed to the upside-down letters. "Mm-ar-yuh. Luh-oh-oo." Stanley smiled. "Mary Lou. It s the name of the boat." "Mary Lou," Zero repeated, studying the letters. "I thought y made the yuh sound." "It does," said Stanley. "But not when it s at the end of a word. Sometimes y is a vowel and sometimes it s a consonant." Zero suddenly groaned. He grabbed his stomach and bent over. "Are you all right?" Zero dropped to the ground. He lay on his side, with his knees pulled up to his chest. He continued to groan. 70 Stanley watched helplessly. He wondered if it was the sploosh. He looked back toward Camp Green Lake. At least he thought it was the direction of Camp Green Lake. He wasn t entirely sure. Zero stopped moaning, and his body slowly unbent. "I m taking you back," said Stanley. Zero managed to sit up. He took several deep breaths. "Look, I got a plan so you won t get in trouble," Stanley assured him. "Remember when I found the gold tube. Remember, I gave it to X-Ray, and the Warden went crazy making us dig where she thought X-Ray found it. I think if I tell the Warden where I really found it, I think she ll let us off." "I m not going back," said Zero. "You ve got nowhere else to go," said Stanley. Zero said nothing. "You ll die out here," said Stanley. "Then I ll die out here." Stanley didn t know what to do. He had come to rescue Zero and instead drank the last of his sploosh. He looked off into the distance. "I want you to look at something." "I m not? " "I just want you to look at that mountain up there. See the one that has something sticking up out of it?" "Yeah, I think." "What does it look like to you? Does it look like anything?" Zero said nothing. But as he studied the mountain, his right hand slowly formed into a fist. He raised his thumb. His eyes went from the mountain, to his hand, then back to the mountain. 36 They put four of the unbroken jars in the burlap sack, in case they might be able to use them. Stanley carried the sack. Zero held the shovel. "I should warn you," Stanley said. "I m not exactly the luckiest guy in the world." Zero wasn t worried. "When you spend your whole life living in a hole," he said, "the only way you can go is up." They gave each other the thumbs-up sign, then headed out. It was the hottest part of the day. Stanley s empty-empty-empty canteen was still strapped around his neck. He thought back to the water truck, and wished he d at least stopped and filled his canteen before running off. They hadn t gone very far before Zero had another attack. He clutched his stomach as he let himself fall to the ground. Stanley could only wait for it to pass. The sploosh had saved Zero s life, but it was now destroying him from the inside. He wondered how long it would be before he, too, felt the effects. 71 He looked at Big Thumb. It didn t seem any closer than when they first started out. Zero took a deep breath and managed to sit up. "Can you walk?" Stanley asked him. "Just give me a second," Zero said. He took another breath, then, using the shovel, pulled himself back to his feet. He gave Stanley the thumbs-up sign and they continued. Sometimes Stanley would try to go for a long while without looking at Big Thumb. He d make a mental snapshot of how it looked, then wait maybe ten minutes before looking at it again, to see if it seemed closer. It never did. It was like chasing the moon. And if they ever reached it, he realized, then they d still have to climb it. "I wonder who she was," said Zero. "Who?" "Mary Lou," said Zero. Stanley smiled. "I guess she was once a real person on a real lake. It s hard to imagine." "I bet she was pretty," said Zero. "Somebody must have loved her a lot, to name a boat after her." "Yeah," said Stanley. "I bet she looked great in a bathing suit, sitting in the boat while her boyfriend rowed." Zero used the shovel as a third leg. Two legs weren t enough to keep him up. "I got to stop and rest," he said after a while. Stanley looked at Big Thumb. It still didn t look any closer. He was afraid if Zero stopped, he might never get started again. "We re almost there," he said. He wondered which was closer Camp Green Lake or Big Thumb? "I really have to sit down." "Just see if you can go a little? " Zero collapsed. The shovel stayed up a fraction of a second longer, perfectly balanced on the tip of the blade, then it fell next to him. Zero knelt, bent over with his head on the ground. Stanley could hear a very low moaning sound coming from him. He looked at the shovel and couldn t help but think that he might need it to dig a grave. Zero s last hole. And who will dig a grave for me? he thought. But Zero did get up, once again flashing thumbs-up. "Give me some words," he said weakly. It took Stanley a few seconds to realize what he meant. Then he smiled and said, "R-u-n." Zero sounded it out to himself. "Rr-un, run. Run." "Good. F-u-n." "Fffun." The spelling seemed to help Zero. It gave him something to concentrate on besides his pain and weakness. It distracted Stanley as well. The next time he looked up at Big Thumb, it really did seem closer. 72 They quit spelling words when it hurt too much to talk. Stanley s throat was dry. He was weak and exhausted, yet as bad as he felt, he knew that Zero felt ten times worse. As long as Zero could keep going, he could keep going, too. It was possible, he thought, he hoped, that he didn t get any of the bad bacteria. Zero hadn t been able to unscrew the lid. Maybe the bad germs couldn t get in, either. Maybe the bacteria were only in the jars which opened easily, the ones he was now carrying in his sack. What scared Stanley the most about dying wasn t his actual death. He figured he could handle the pain. It wouldn t be much worse than what he felt now. In fact, maybe at the moment of his death he would be too weak to feel pain. Death would be a relief. What worried him the most was the thought of his parents not knowing what happened to him, not knowing whether he was dead or alive. He hated to imagine what it would be like for his mother and father, day after day, month after month, not knowing, living on false hope. For him, at least, it would be over. For his parents, the pain would never end. He wondered if the Warden would send out a search party to look for him. It didn t seem likely. She didn t send anyone to look for Zero. But no one cared about Zero. They simply destroyed his files. But Stanley had a family. She couldn t pretend he was never there. He wondered what she would tell them. And when? "What do you think s up there?" Zero asked. Stanley looked to the top of Big Thumb. "Oh, probably an Italian restaurant," he said. Zero managed to laugh. "I think I ll get a pepperoni pizza and a large root beer," said Stanley. "I want an ice cream sundae," said Zero. "With nuts and whipped cream, and bananas, and hot fudge." The sun was almost directly in front of them. The thumb pointed up toward it. They came to the end of the lake. Huge white stone cliffs rose up before them. Unlike the eastern shore, where Camp Green Lake was situated, the western shore did not slope down gradually. It was as if they had been walking across the flat bottom of a giant frying pan, and now they had to somehow climb up out of it. They could no longer see Big Thumb. The cliffs blocked their view. The cliffs also blocked out the sun. Zero groaned and clutched his stomach, but he remained standing. "I m all right," he whispered. Stanley saw a rut, about a foot wide and six inches deep, running down a cliff. On either side of the rut were a series of ledges. "Let s try there," he said. It looked to be about a fifty-foot climb, straight up. Stanley still managed to hold the sack of jars in his left hand as he slowly moved up, from ledge to ledge, crisscrossing the rut. At times he had to use the side of the rut for support, in order to make it to the next ledge. 73 Zero stayed with him, somehow. His frail body trembled terribly as he climbed the stone wall. Some of the ledges were wide enough to sit on. Others stuck out no more than a few inches? just enough for a quick step. Stanley stopped about two-thirds of the way up, on a fairly wide ledge. Zero came up alongside him. "You okay?" Stanley asked. Zero gave the thumbs-up sign. Stanley did the same. He looked above him. He wasn t sure how he d get to the next ledge. It was three or four feet above his head, and he didn t see any footholds. He was afraid to look down. "Give me a boost," said Zero. "Then I ll pull you up with the shovel." "You won t be able to pull me up," said Stanley. "Yes, I will," said Zero. Stanley cupped his hands together, and Zero stepped on his interwoven fingers. He was able to lift Zero high enough for him to grab the protruding slab of rock. Stanley continued to help him from below as Zero pulled himself onto the ledge. While Zero was getting himself situated up there, Stanley attached the sack to the shovel by poking a hole through the burlap. He held it up to Zero. Zero first grabbed hold of the sack, then the shovel. He set the shovel so that half the blade was supported by the rock slab. The wooden shaft hung down toward Stanley. "Okay," he said. Stanley doubted this would work. It was one thing for him to lift Zero, who was half his weight. It was quite another for Zero to try to pull him up. Stanley grabbed hold of the shovel as he climbed up the rock wall, using the sides of the rut to help support him. His hands moved one over the other, up the shaft of the shovel. He felt Zero s hand clasp his wrist. He let go of the shaft with one hand and grabbed the top of the ledge. He gathered his strength and for a brief second seemed to defy gravity as he took a quick step up the wall and, with Zero s help, pulled himself the rest of the way over the ledge. He caught his breath. There was no way he could have done that a few months ago. He noticed a large spot of blood on his wrist. It took him a moment to realize that it was Zero s blood. Zero had deep gashes in both hands. He had held on to the metal blade of the shovel, keeping it in place, as Stanley climbed. Zero brought his hands to his mouth and sucked up his blood. One of the glass jars had broken in the sack. They decided to save the pieces. They might need to make a knife or something. They rested briefly, then continued on up. It was a fairly easy climb the rest of the way. When they reached flat ground, Stanley looked up to see the sun, a fiery ball balancing on top of Big Thumb. God was twirling a basketball. Soon they were walking in the long thin shadow of the thumb. 74 37 "We re almost there," said Stanley. He could see the base of the mountain. Now that they really were almost there, it scared him. Big Thumb was his only hope. If there was no water, no refuge, then they d have nothing, not even hope. There was no exact place where the flat land stopped and the mountain began. The ground got steeper and steeper, and then there was no doubt that they were heading up the mountain. Stanley could no longer see Big Thumb. The slope of the mountain was in the way. It became too steep to go straight up. Instead they zigzagged back and forth, increasing their altitude by small increments every time they changed directions. Patches of weeds dotted the mountainside. They walked from one patch to another, using the weeds as footholds. As they got higher, the weeds got thicker. Many had thorns, and they had to be careful walking through them. Stanley would have liked to stop and rest, but he was afraid they d never get started again. As long as Zero could keep going, he could keep going, too. Besides, he knew they didn t have much daylight left. As the sky darkened, bugs began appearing above the weed patches. A swarm of gnats hovered around them, attracted by their sweat. Neither Stanley nor Zero had the strength to try to swat at them. "How are you doing?" Stanley asked. Zero pointed thumbs up. Then he said, "If a gnat lands on me, it will knock me over." Stanley gave him some more words. "B-u-g-s," he spelled. Zero concentrated hard, then said, "Boogs." Stanley laughed. A wide smile spread across Zero s sick and weary face as well. "Bugs," he said. "Good," said Stanley. "Remember, it s a short u if there s no e at the end. "Okay, here s a hard one. How about, l-u-n-c-h?" "Luh? Luh-un? " Suddenly, Zero made a horrible, wrenching noise as he doubled over and grabbed his stomach. His frail body shook violently, and he threw up, emptying his stomach of the sploosh. He leaned on his knees and took several deep breaths. Then he straightened up and continued going. The swarm of gnats stayed behind, preferring the contents of Zero s stomach to the sweat on the boys faces. Stanley didn t give him any more words, thinking that he needed to save his strength. But about ten or fifteen minutes later, Zero said, "Lunch." As they climbed higher, the patches of weeds grew thicker, and they had to be careful not to get their feet tangled in thorny vines. Stanley suddenly realized something. There hadn t been any weeds on the lake. "Weeds and bugs," he said. "There s got to be water around somewhere. We must be getting close." 75 A wide clown-like smile spread across Zero s face. He flashed the thumbs-up sign, then fell. He didn t get up. Stanley bent over him. "C mon, Zero," he urged. "We re getting close. C mon, Hector. Weeds and bugs. Weeds and boogs." Stanley shook him. "I ve already ordered your hot fudge sundae," he said. "They re making it right now." Zero said nothing. 38 Stanley took hold of Zero s forearms and pulled him upright. Then he stooped down and let Zero fall over his right shoulder. He stood up, lifting Zero s worn-out body off the ground. He left the shovel and sack of jars behind as he continued up the mountain. Zero s legs dangled in front of him. Stanley couldn t see his feet, which made it difficult to walk through the tangled patches of weeds and vines. He concentrated on one step at a time, carefully raising and setting down each foot. He thought only about each step, and not the impossible task that lay before him. Higher and higher he climbed. His strength came from somewhere deep inside himself and also seemed to come from the outside as well. After focusing on Big Thumb for so long, it was as if the rock had absorbed his energy and now acted like a kind of giant magnet pulling him toward it. After a while he became aware of a foul odor. At first he thought it came from Zero, but it seemed to be in the air, hanging heavy all around him. He also noticed that the ground wasn t as steep anymore. As the ground flattened, a huge stone precipice rose up ahead of him, just barely visible in the moonlight. It seemed to grow bigger with each step he took. It no longer resembled a thumb. And he knew he d never be able to climb it. Around him, the smell became stronger. It was the bitter smell of despair. Even if he could somehow climb Big Thumb, he knew he wouldn t find water. How could there be water at the top of a giant rock? The weeds and bugs survived only by an occasional rainstorm, like the one he had seen from camp. Still, he continued toward it. If nothing else, he wanted to at least reach the Thumb. He never made it. His feet slipped out from under him. Zero s head knocked against the back of his shoulder as he fell and tumbled into a small muddy gully. As he lay face down in the muddy ditch, he didn t know if he d ever get up again. He didn t know if he d even try. Had he come all this way just to . . . You need water to make mud! He crawled along the gully in the direction that seemed the muddiest. The ground became gloppier. The mud splashed up as he slapped the ground. 76 Using both hands, he dug a hole in the soggy soil. It was too dark to see, but he thought he could feel a tiny pool of water at the bottom of his hole. He stuck his head in the hole and licked the dirt. He dug deeper, and as he did so, more water seemed to fill the hole. He couldn t see it, but he could feel it? first with his fingers, then with his tongue. He dug until he had a hole that was about as deep as his arm was long. There was enough water for him to scoop out with his hands and drop on Zero s face. Zero s eyes remained closed. But his tongue poked out between his lips, searching out the droplets. Stanley dragged Zero closer to the hole. He dug, then scooped some more water and let it pour out of his hands into Zero s mouth. As he continued to widen his hole, his hand came across a smooth, round object. It was too smooth and too round to be a rock. He wiped the dirt off of it and realized it was an onion. He bit into it without peeling it. The hot bitter juice burst into his mouth. He could feel it all the way up to his eyes. And when he swallowed, he felt its warmth move down his throat and into his stomach. He only ate half. He gave the other half to Zero. "Here, eat this." "What is it?" Zero whispered. "A hot fudge sundae." 39 Stanley awoke in a meadow, looking up at the giant rock tower. It was layered and streaked with different shades of red, burnt orange, brown, and tan. It must have been over a hundred feet tall. Stanley lay awhile, just looking at it. He didn t have the strength to get up. It felt like the insides of his mouth and throat were coated with sand. And no wonder. When he rolled over he saw the water hole. It was about two and a half feet deep and over three feet wide. At the bottom lay no more than two inches of very brown water. His hands and fingers were sore from digging, especially under his fingernails. He scooped some dirty water into his mouth, then swished it around, trying to filter it with his teeth. Zero moaned. Stanley started to say something to him, but no words came out of his mouth, and he had to try again. "How you doing?" It hurt to talk. "Not good," Zero said quietly. With great effort, he rolled over, raised himself to his knees, and crawled to the water hole. He lowered his head into it and lapped up some water. Then he jerked back, clutched his knees to his chest, and rolled to his side. His body shook violently. 77 Stanley thought about going back down the mountain to look for the shovel, so he could make the water hole deeper. Maybe that would give them cleaner water. They could use the jars as drinking glasses. But he didn t think he had the strength to go down, let alone make it back up again. And he didn t know where to look. He struggled to his feet. He was in a field of greenish white flowers that seemed to extend all the way around Big Thumb. He took a deep breath, then walked the last fifty yards to the giant precipice and touched it. Tag, you re it. Then he walked back to Zero and the water hole. On the way he picked one of the flowers. It actually wasn t one big flower, he discovered, but instead each flower was really a cluster of tiny little flowers that formed a round ball. He brought it to his mouth but had to spit it out. He could see part of the trail he had made the night before, when he carried Zero up the mountain. If he was going to head back down and look for the shovel, he realized, he should do it soon, while the trail was fresh. But he didn t want to leave Zero. He was afraid Zero might die while he was gone. Zero was still lying doubled over on his side. "I got to tell you something," he said with a groan. "Don t talk," said Stanley. "Save your strength." "No, listen," Zero insisted, then he closed his eyes as his face twisted with pain. "I m listening," Stanley whispered. "I took your shoes," Zero said. Stanley didn t know what he was talking about. His shoes were on his feet. "That s all right," he said. "Just rest now." "It s all my fault," said Zero. "It s nobody s fault," said Stanley. "I didn t know," Zero said. "That s okay," Stanley said. "Just rest." Zero closed his eyes. But then again he said, "I didn t know about the shoes." "What shoes?" "From the shelter." It took a moment for Stanley to comprehend. "Clyde Livingston s shoes?" "I m sorry," said Zero. Stanley stared at him. It was impossible. Zero was delirious. Zero s "confession" seemed to bring him some relief. The muscles in his face relaxed. As he drifted into sleep, Stanley softly sang him the song that had been in his family for generations. "If only, if only," the woodpecker sighs, "The bark on the tree was just a little bit softer." While the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely, He cries to the moo? oo? oon, 78 "If only, if only." 40 When Stanley found the onion the night before, he didn t question how it had come to be there. He ate it gratefully. But now as he sat gazing at Big Thumb and the meadow full of flowers, he couldn t help but wonder about it. If there was one wild onion, there could be more. He intertwined his fingers and tried to rub out the pain. Then he bent down and dug up another flower, this time pulling up the entire plant, including the root. "Onions! Fresh, hot, sweet onions," Sam called as Mary Lou pulled the cart down Main Street. "Eight cents a dozen." It was a beautiful spring morning. The sky was painted pale blue and pink? the same color as the lake and the peach trees along its shore. Mrs. Gladys Tennyson was wearing just her nightgown and robe as she came running down the street after Sam. Mrs. Tennyson was normally a very proper woman who never went out in public without dressing up in fine clothes and a hat. So it was quite surprising to the people of Green Lake to see her running past them. "Sam!" she shouted. "Whoa, Mary Lou," said Sam, stopping his mule and cart. "G morning, Mrs. Tennyson," he said. "How s little Becca doing?" Gladys Tennyson was all smiles. "I think she s going to be all right. The fever broke about an hour ago. Thanks to you." "I m sure the good Lord and Doc Hawthorn deserve most of the credit." "The Good Lord, yes," agreed Mrs. Tennyson, "but not Dr. Hawthorn. That quack wanted to put leeches on her stomach! Leeches! My word! He said they would suck out the bad blood. Now you tell me. How would a leech know good blood from bad blood?" "I wouldn t know," said Sam. "It was your onion tonic," said Mrs. Tennyson. "That s what saved her." Other townspeople made their way to the cart. "Good morning, Gladys," said Hattie Parker. "Don t you look lovely this morning." Several people snickered. "Good morning, Hattie," Mrs. Tennyson replied. "Does your husband know you re parading about in your bed clothes?" Hattie asked. There were more snickers. "My husband knows exactly where I am and how I am dressed, thank you," said Mrs. Tennyson. "We have both been up all night and half the morning with Rebecca. She almost died from stomach sickness. It seems she ate some bad meat." Hattie s face flushed. Her husband, Jim Parker, was the butcher. 79 "It made my husband and me sick as well," said Mrs. Tennyson, "but it nearly killed Becca, what with her being so young. Sam saved her life." "It wasn t me," said Sam. "It was the onions." "I m glad Becca s all right," Hattie said contritely. "I keep telling Jim he needs to wash his knives," said Mr. Pike, who owned the general store. Hattie Parker excused herself, then turned and quickly walked away. "Tell Becca that when she feels up to it to come by the store for a piece of candy," said Mr. Pike. "Thank you, I ll do that." Before returning home, Mrs. Tennyson bought a dozen onions from Sam. She gave him a dime and told him to keep the change. "I don t take charity," Sam told her. "But if you want to buy a few extra onions for Mary Lou, I m sure she d appreciate it." "All right then," said Mrs. Tennyson, "give me my change in onions." Sam gave Mrs. Tennyson an additional three onions, and she fed them one at a time to Mary Lou. She laughed as the old donkey ate them out of her hand. Stanley and Zero slept off and on for the next two days, ate onions, all they wanted, and splashed dirty water into their mouths. In the late afternoon Big Thumb gave them shade. Stanley tried to make the hole deeper, but he really needed the shovel. His efforts just seemed to stir up the mud and make the water dirtier. Zero was sleeping. He was still very sick and weak, but the sleep and the onions seemed to be doing him some good. Stanley was no longer afraid that he would die soon. Still, he didn t want to go for the shovel while Zero was asleep. He didn t want him to wake up and think he d been deserted. He waited for Zero to open his eyes. "I think I ll go look for the shovel," Stanley said. "I ll wait here," Zero said feebly, as if he had any other choice. Stanley headed down the mountain. The sleep and the onions had done him a lot of good as well. He felt strong. It was fairly easy to follow the trail he had made two days earlier. There were a few places where he wasn t sure he was going the right way, but it just took a little bit of searching before he found the trail again. He went quite a ways down the mountain but still didn t find the shovel. He looked back up toward the top of the mountain. He must have walked right past it, he thought. There was no way he could have carried Zero all the way up from here. Still, he headed downward, just in case. He came to a bare spot between two large patches of weeds and sat down to rest. Now he had definitely gone too far, he decided. He was tired out from walking down the hill. It would have been impossible to have carried Zero up the hill from here, especially after walking all day with no food or water. The shovel must be buried in some weeds. 80 Before starting back up, he took one last look around in all directions. He saw a large indentation in the weeds a little farther down the mountain. It didn t seem likely that the shovel could be there, but he d already come this far. There, lying in some tall weeds, he found the shovel and the sack of jars. He was amazed. He wondered if the shovel and sack might have rolled down the hill. But none of the jars were broken, except the one which had broken earlier. And if they had rolled down the hill, it is doubtful that he would have found the sack and shovel side by side. On his way back up the mountain, Stanley had to sit down and rest several times. It was a long, hard climb. 41 Zero s condition continued to improve. Stanley slowly peeled an onion. He liked eating them one layer at a time. The water hole was now almost as large as the holes he had dug back at Camp Green Lake. It contained almost two feet of murky water. Stanley had dug it all himself. Zero had offered to help, but Stanley thought it better for Zero to save his strength. It was a lot harder to dig in water than it was in a dry lake. Stanley was surprised that he himself hadn t gotten sick? either from the sploosh, the dirty water, or from living on onions. He used to get sick quite a lot back at home. Both boys were barefoot. They had washed their socks. All their clothes were very dirty, but their socks were definitely the worst. They didn t dip their socks into the hole, afraid to contaminate the water. Instead they filled the jars and poured the water over their dirty socks. "I didn t go to the homeless shelter very often," Zero said. "Just if the weather was really bad. I d have to find someone to pretend to be my mom. If I d just gone by myself, they would have asked me a bunch of questions. If they d found out I didn t have a mom, they would have made me a ward of the state." "What s a ward of the state?" Zero smiled. "I don t know. But I didn t like the sound of it." Stanley remembered Mr. Pendanski telling the Warden that Zero was a ward of the state. He wondered if Zero knew he d become one. "I liked sleeping outside," said Zero. "I used to pretend I was a Cub Scout. I always wanted to be a Cub Scout. I d see them at the park in their blue uniforms." "I was never a Cub Scout," said Stanley. "I wasn t good at social stuff like that. Kids made fun of me because I was fat." "I liked the blue uniforms," said Zero. "Maybe I wouldn t have liked being a Cub Scout." Stanley shrugged one shoulder. "My mother was once a Girl Scout," said Zero. "I thought you said you didn t have a mother." "Everybody has to have a mother." "Well, yeah, I know that." 81 "She said she once won a prize for selling the most Girl Scout cookies," said Zero. "She was real proud of that." Stanley peeled off another layer of his onion. "We always took what we needed," Zero said. "When I was little, I didn t even know it was stealing. I don t remember when I found out. But we just took what we needed, never more. So when I saw the shoes on display in the shelter, I just reached in the glass case and took them." "Clyde Livingston s shoes?" asked Stanley. "I didn t know they were his. I just thought they were somebody s old shoes. It was better to take someone s old shoes, I thought, than steal a pair of new ones. I didn t know they were famous. There was a sign, but of course I couldn t read it. Then, the next thing I know everybody s making this big deal about how the shoes are missing. It was kind of funny, in a way. The whole place is going crazy. There I was, wearing the shoes, and everyone s running around saying, What happened to the shoes? The shoes are gone! I just walked out the door. No one noticed me. When I got outside, I ran around the corner and immediately took off the shoes. I put them on top of a parked car. I remember they smelled really bad." "Yeah, those were them," said Stanley. "Did they fit you?" "Pretty much." Stanley remembered being surprised at Clyde Livingston s small shoe size. Stanley s shoes were bigger. Clyde Livingston had small, quick feet. Stanley s feet were big and slow. "I should have just kept them," said Zero. "I d already made it out of the shelter and everything. I ended up getting arrested the next day when I tried to walk out of a shoe store with a new pair of sneakers. If I had just kept those old smelly sneakers, then neither of us would be here right now." 42 Zero became strong enough to help dig the hole. When he finished, it was over six feet deep. He filled the bottom with rocks to help separate the water from the dirt. He was still the best hole digger around. "That s the last hole I will ever dig," he declared, throwing down the shovel. Stanley smiled. He wished it were true, but he knew they had no choice but to eventually return to Camp Green Lake. They couldn t live on onions forever. They had been completely around Big Thumb. It was like a giant sundial. They followed the shade. They were able to see out in all directions. There was no place to go. The mountain was surrounded by desert. Zero stared at Big Thumb. "It must have a hole in it," he said, "filled with water." "You think?" "Where else could the water be coming from?" Zero asked. "Water doesn t run uphill." 82 Stanley bit into an onion. It didn t burn his eyes or nose, and, in fact, he no longer noticed a particularly strong taste. He remembered when he had first carried Zero up the hill, how the air had smelled bitter. It was the smell of thousands of onions, growing and rotting and sprouting. Now he didn t smell a thing. "How many onions do you think we ve eaten?" he asked. Zero shrugged. "I don t even know how long we ve been here." "I d say about a week," said Stanley. "And we probably each eat about twenty onions a day, so that s . . ." "Two hundred and eighty onions," said Zero. Stanley smiled. "I bet we really stink." Two nights later, Stanley lay awake staring up at the star-filled sky. He was too happy to fall asleep. He knew he had no reason to be happy. He had heard or read somewhere that right before a person freezes to death, he suddenly feels nice and warm. He wondered if perhaps he was experiencing something like that. It occurred to him that he couldn t remember the last time he felt happiness. It wasn t just being sent to Camp Green Lake that had made his life miserable. Before that he d been unhappy at school, where he had no friends, and bullies like Derrick Dunne picked on him. No one liked him, and the truth was, he didn t especially like himself. He liked himself now. He wondered if he was delirious. He looked over at Zero sleeping near him. Zero s face was lit in the starlight, and there was a flower petal in front of his nose that moved back and forth as he breathed. It reminded Stanley of something out of a cartoon. Zero breathed in, and the petal was drawn up almost touching his nose. Zero breathed out, and the petal moved toward his chin. It stayed on Zero s face for an amazingly long time before fluttering off to the side. Stanley considered placing it back in front of Zero s nose, but it wouldn t be the same. It seemed like Zero had lived at Camp Green Lake forever, but as Stanley thought about it now, he realized that Zero must have gotten there no more than a month or two before him. Zero was actually arrested a day later. But Stanley s trial kept getting delayed because of baseball. He remembered what Zero had said a few days before. If Zero had just kept those shoes, then neither of them would be here right now. As Stanley stared at the glittering night sky, he thought there was no place he would rather be. He was glad Zero put the shoes on the parked car. He was glad they fell from the overpass and hit him on the head. When the shoes first fell from the sky, he remembered thinking that destiny had struck him. Now, he thought so again. It was more than a coincidence. It had to be destiny. 83 Maybe they wouldn t have to return to Camp Green Lake, he thought. Maybe they could make it past the camp, then follow the dirt road back to civilization. They could fill the sack with onions, and the three jars with water. And he had his canteen as well. They could refill their jars and canteen at the camp. Maybe sneak into the kitchen and get some food. He doubted any counselors were still on guard. Everyone had to think they were dead. Buzzard food. It would mean living the rest of his life as a fugitive. The police would always be after him. At least he could call his parents and tell them he was still alive. But he couldn t go visit them, in case the police were watching the apartment. Although, if everyone thought he was dead, they wouldn t bother to watch the apartment. He would have to somehow get a new identity. Now, I m really thinking crazy, he thought. He wondered if a crazy person wonders if he s crazy. But even as he thought this, an even crazier idea kept popping into his head. He knew it was too crazy to even consider. Still, if he was going to be a fugitive for the rest of his life, it would help to have some money, perhaps a treasure chest full of money. You re crazy! he told himself. Besides, just because he found a lipstick container with K B on it, that didn t mean there was treasure buried there. It was crazy. It was all part of his crazy feeling of happiness. Or maybe it was destiny. He reached over and shook Zero s arm. "Hey, Zero," he whispered. "Huh?" Zero muttered. "Zero, wake up." "What?" Zero raised up his head. "What is it?" "You want to dig one more hole?" Stanley asked him. 43 "We weren t always homeless," Zero said. "I remember a yellow room." "How old were you when you . . ." Stanley started to ask, but couldn t find the right words. ". . . moved out?" "I don t know. I must have been real little, because I don t remember too much. I don t remember moving out. I remember standing in a crib, with my mother singing to me. She held my wrists and made my hands clap together. She used to sing that song to me. That one you sang . . . It was different, though . . ." Zero spoke slowly, as if searching his brain for memories and clues. "And then later I know we lived on the street, but I don t know why we left the house. I m pretty sure it was a house, and not an apartment. I know my room was yellow." It was late afternoon. They were resting in the shadow of the Thumb. They had spent the morning picking onions and putting them in the sack. It didn t take long, but long enough so that they had to wait another day before heading down the mountain. 84 They wanted to leave at the first hint of daylight, so they d have plenty of time to make it to Camp Green Lake before dark. Stanley wanted to be sure he could find the right hole. Then, they would hide by it until everyone went to sleep. They would dig for as long as it seemed safe, and not a second longer. And then, treasure or no treasure, they d head up the dirt road. If it was absolutely safe, they d try to steal some food and water from the camp kitchen. "I m good at sneaking in and out of places," Zero had said. "Remember," Stanley had warned. "The door to the Wreck Room squeaks." Now he lay on his back, trying to save his strength for the long days ahead. He wondered what happened to Zero s parents, but he didn t ask. Zero didn t like answering questions. It was better to just let him talk when he felt like it. Stanley thought about his own parents. In her last letter, his mom was worried that they might be evicted from their apartment because of the smell of burning sneakers. They could easily become homeless as well. Again, he wondered if they d been told that he ran away from camp. Were they told that he was dead? An image appeared in his head of his parents hugging each other and crying. He tried not to think about it. Instead he tried to recapture the feelings he d had the night before? the inexplicable feeling of happiness, the sense of destiny. But those feelings didn t return. He just felt scared. The next morning they headed down the mountain. They d dunked their caps in the water hole before putting them on their heads. Zero held the shovel, and Stanley carried the sack, which was crammed with onions and the three jars of water. They left the pieces of the broken jar on the mountain. "This is where I found the shovel," Stanley said, pointing out a patch of weeds. Zero turned and looked up toward the top of the mountain. "That s a long way." "You were light," Stanley said. "You d already thrown up everything that was inside your stomach." He shifted the sack from one shoulder to the other. It was heavy. He stepped on a loose rock, slipped, then fell hard. The next thing he knew he was sliding down the steep side of the mountain. He dropped the sack, and onions spilled around him. He slid into a patch of weeds and grabbed onto a thorny vine. The vine ripped out of the earth, but slowed him enough so that he was able to stop himself. "Are you all right?" Zero asked from above. Stanley groaned as he pulled a thorn out of the palm of his hand. "Yeah," he said. He was all right. He was worried more about the jars of water. Zero climbed down after him, retrieving the sack along the way. Stanley pulled some thorns out of his pant legs. The jars hadn t broken. The onions had protected them, like Styrofoam packing material. "Glad you didn t do that when you were carrying me," Zero said. 85 They d lost about a third of the onions, but recovered many of them as they continued down the mountain. When they reached the bottom, the sun was just rising above the lake. They walked directly toward it. Soon they stood on the edge of a cliff, looking down on the dry lake bed. Stanley wasn t sure, but he thought he could see the remains of the Mary Lou off in the distance. "You thirsty?" Stanley asked. "No," said Zero. "How about you." "No," Stanley lied. He didn t want to be the first one to take a drink. Although they didn t mention it, it had become a kind of challenge between him and Zero. They climbed down into the frying pan. It was a different spot from where they had climbed up. They eased themselves down from one ledge to another, and let themselves slide in other places, being especially careful with the sack. Stanley could no longer see the Mary Lou, but headed in what he thought was the right direction. As the sun rose, so did the familiar haze of heat and dirt. "You thirsty?" Zero asked. "No," said Stanley. "Because you have three full jars of water," said Zero. "I thought maybe it was getting too heavy for you. If you drink some, it will lighten your load." "I m not thirsty," said Stanley. "But if you want a drink, I ll give you some." "I m not thirsty," said Zero. "I was just worried about you." Stanley smiled. "I m a camel," he said. They walked for what seemed like a very long time, and still never came across the Mary Lou. Stanley was pretty sure they were heading in the right direction. He remembered that when they left the boat, they were headed toward the setting sun. Now they were headed toward the rising sun. He knew the sun didn t rise and set exactly in the east and west; more southeast and southwest, but he wasn t sure how that made a difference. His throat felt as if it was coated with sandpaper. "You sure you re not thirsty?" he asked. "Not me," said Zero. His voice was dry and raspy. When they did finally take a drink, they agreed to do it at the same time. Zero, who was now carrying the sack, set it down and took out two jars, giving one to Stanley. They decided to save the canteen for last, since it couldn t accidentally break. "You know I m not thirsty," Stanley said, as he unscrewed the lid. "I m just drinking so you will." "I m just drinking so you will," said Zero. They clinked the jars together and, each watching the other, poured the water into their stubborn mouths. Zero was the first to spot the Mary Lou, maybe a quarter mile away, and just a little off to the right. They headed for it. It wasn t even noon yet when they reached the boat. They sat against the shady side and rested. 86 "I don t know what happened to my mother," Zero said. "She left and never came back." Stanley peeled an onion. "She couldn t always take me with her," Zero said. "Sometimes she had to do things by herself." Stanley had the feeling that Zero was explaining things to himself. "She d tell me to wait in a certain place for her. When I was real little, I had to wait in small areas, like on a porch step or a doorway. Now don t leave here until I get back, she d say. "I never liked it when she left. I had a stuffed animal, a little giraffe, and I d hug it the whole time she was gone. When I got bigger I was allowed to stay in bigger areas. Like, Stay on this block. Or, Don t leave the park. But even then, I still held Jaffy." Stanley guessed that Jaffy was the name of Zero s giraffe. "And then one day she didn t come back," Zero said. His voice sounded suddenly hollow. "I waited for her at Laney Park." "Laney Park," said Stanley. "I ve been there." "You know the playscape?" asked Zero. "Yeah. I ve played on it." "I waited there for more than a month," said Zero. "You know that tunnel that you crawl through, between the slide and the swinging bridge? That s where I slept." They ate four onions apiece and drank about half a jar of water. Stanley stood up and looked around. Everything looked the same in all directions. "When I left camp, I was heading straight toward Big Thumb," he said. "I saw the boat off to the right. So that means we have to turn a little to the left." Zero was lost in thought. "What? Okay," he said. They headed out. It was Stanley s turn to carry the sack. "Some kids had a birthday party," Zero said. "I guess it was about two weeks after my mother left. There was a picnic table next to the playscape and balloons were tied to it. The kids looked to be the same age as me. One girl said hi to me and asked me if I wanted to play. I wanted to, but I didn t. I knew I didn t belong at the party, even though it wasn t their playscape. There was this one mother who kept staring at me like I was some kind of monster. Then later a boy asked me if I wanted a piece of cake, but then that same mother told me, Go away! and she told all the kids to stay away from me, so I never got the piece of cake. I ran away so fast, I forgot Jaffy." "Did you ever find him? it?" For a moment, Zero didn t answer. Then he said, "He wasn t real." Stanley thought again about his own parents, how awful it would be for them to never know if he was dead or alive. He realized that was how Zero must have felt, not knowing what happened to his own mother. He wondered why Zero never mentioned his father. "Hold on," Zero said, stopping abruptly. "We re going the wrong way." "No, this is right," said Stanley. "You were heading toward Big Thumb when you saw the boat off to your right," said Zero. "That means we should have turned right when we left the boat." 87 "You sure?" Zero drew a diagram in the dirt. Stanley still wasn t sure. "We need to go this way," Zero said, first drawing a line on the map and then heading that way himself. Stanley followed. It didn t feel right to him, but Zero seemed sure. Sometime in the middle of the afternoon, a cloud drifted across the sky and blocked out the sun. It was a welcome relief. Once again, Stanley felt that destiny was on his side. Zero stopped and held out his arm to stop Stanley, too. "Listen," Zero whispered. Stanley didn t hear anything. They continued walking very quietly and Stanley began to make out the faint sounds of Camp Green Lake. They were still too far away to see the camp, but he could hear a blend of indistinct voices. As they got closer he occasionally could hear Mr. Sir s distinctive bark. They walked slowly and quietly, aware that sounds travel in both directions. They approached a cluster of holes. "Let s wait here, until they go in," said Zero. Stanley nodded. He checked to make sure there was nothing living in it, then climbed down into a hole. Zero climbed into the one next to him. Despite having gone the wrong way for a while, it hadn t taken them nearly as long as Stanley had expected. Now, they just had to wait. The sun cut through the cloud, and Stanley felt its rays beating down on him. But soon more clouds filled the sky, shading Stanley and his hole. He waited until he was certain the last of the campers had finished for the day. Then he waited a little longer. As quietly as possible, he and Zero climbed up out of their holes and crept toward camp. Stanley held the sack in front of him, cradled in his arms, instead of over his shoulder, to keep the jars from clanking against each other. A wave of terror rushed over him when he saw the compound? the tents, the Wreck Room, the Warden s cabin under the two oak trees. The fear made him dizzy. He took a breath, summoned his courage, and continued. "That s the one," he whispered, pointing out the hole where he had found the gold tube. It was still about fifty yards away, but Stanley was pretty sure it was the right hole. There was no need to risk going any closer. They climbed down into adjacent holes, and waited for the camp to fall asleep. 44 Stanley tried to sleep, not knowing when he d get the chance again. He heard the showers and, later, the sounds of dinner. He heard the creaking of the Wreck Room door. His fingers drummed against the side of the hole. He heard his own heart heat. 88 He took a drink from the canteen. He had given Zero the water jars. They each had a good supply of onions. He wasn t sure how long he remained in the hole, maybe five hours. He was surprised when he heard Zero whispering for him to wake up. He didn t think he d fallen asleep. If he had, he thought it must have just been for the last five minutes. Although, when he opened his eyes, he was surprised how dark it was. There was only one light on at camp, in the office. The sky was cloudy, so there was very little starlight. Stanley could see a sliver of a moon, which appeared and disappeared among the clouds. He carefully led Zero to the hole, which was hard to find in the darkness. He stumbled over a small pile of dirt. "I think this is it," he whispered. "You think?" Zero asked. "It s it," said Stanley, sounding more certain than he really was. He climbed down. Zero handed him the shovel. Stanley stuck the shovel into the dirt at the bottom of the hole and stepped on the back of the blade. He felt it sink beneath his weight. He scooped out some dirt and tossed it off to the side. Then he brought the shovel back down. Zero watched for a while. "I m going to try to refill the water jars," he said. Stanley took a deep breath and exhaled. "Be careful," he said, then continued digging. It was so dark, he couldn t even see the end of his shovel. For all he knew he could be digging up gold and diamonds instead of dirt. He brought each shovelful close to his face, to try to see if anything was there, before dumping it out of the hole. As he made the hole deeper, it became harder to lift the dirt up and out. It was five feet deep before he even started. He decided to use his efforts to make it wider instead. This made more sense, he told himself. If Kate Barlow had buried a treasure chest, she probably wouldn t have been able to dig much deeper, so why should he? Of course, Kate Barlow probably had a whole gang of thieves helping her. "You want some breakfast?" Stanley jumped at the sound of Zero s voice. He hadn t heard him approach. Zero handed down a box of cereal. Stanley carefully poured some cereal into his mouth. He didn t want to put his dirty hands inside the box. He nearly gagged on the ultra-sweet taste. They were sugar-frosted flakes, and after eating nothing but onions for more than a week, he had trouble adjusting to the flavor. He washed them down with a swig of water. Zero took over the digging. Stanley sifted his fingers through the fresh piles of dirt, in case he had missed anything. He wished he had a flashlight. A diamond no bigger than a pebble would be worth thousands of dollars. Yet there was no way he d see it. They finished the water that Zero had gotten from the spigot by the showers. Stanley said he d go fill the jars again, but Zero insisted that he do it instead. "No offense, but you make too much noise when you walk. You re too big." Stanley returned to the hole. As the hole grew wider, parts of the surface kept caving in. They were running out of room. To make it much wider, they would first 89 have to move some of the surrounding dirt piles out of the way. He wondered how much time they had before the camp woke up. "How s it going?" Zero asked when he returned with the water. Stanley shrugged one shoulder. He brought the shovel down the side of the hole, shaving off a slice of the dirt wall. As he did so, he felt the shovel bounce off something hard. "What was that?" Zero asked. Stanley didn t know. He moved his shovel up and down the side of the hole. As the dirt chipped and flaked away, the hard object became more pronounced. It was sticking out of the side of the hole, about a foot and a half from the bottom. He felt it with his hands. "What is it?" Zero asked. He could just feel a corner of it. Most of it was still buried. It had the cool, smooth texture of metal. "I think I might have found the treasure chest," he said. His voice was filled more with astonishment than with excitement. "Really?" asked Zero. "I think so," Stanley said. The hole was wide enough for him to hold the shovel lengthwise and dig sideways into the wall. He knew he had to dig very carefully. He didn t want the side of the hole to collapse, along with the huge pile of dirt directly above it. He scraped at the dirt wall, until he exposed one entire side of the box-like object. He ran his fingers over it. It felt to be about eight inches tall, and almost two feet wide. He had no way of knowing how far into the earth it extended. He tried pulling it out, but it wouldn t budge. He was afraid that the only way to get to it was to start back up at the surface, and dig down. They didn t have time for that. "I m going to try to dig a hole underneath it," he said. "Then maybe I can pull it down and slip it out." "Go for it," said Zero. Stanley jammed the shovel into the bottom edge of his hole, and carefully began to dig a tunnel underneath the metal object. He hoped it didn t cave in. Occasionally he d stop, stoop down, and try to feel the far end of the box. But even when the tunnel was as long as his arm, he still couldn t feel the other side. Once again he tried pulling it out, but it was firmly in the ground. If he pulled too hard, he feared, he d cause a cave-in. He knew that when he was ready to pull it out, he would have to do it quickly, before the ground above it collapsed. As his tunnel grew deeper and wider? and more precarious? Stanley was able to feel latches on one end of the box, and then a leather handle. It wasn t really a box. "I think it might be some kind of metal suitcase," he told Zero. "Can you pry it loose with the shovel?" Zero suggested. "I m afraid the side of the hole will collapse." "You might as well give it a try," said Zero. Stanley took a sip of water. "Might as well," he said. 90 He forced the tip of the shovel between the dirt and the top of the metal case and tried to wedge it free. He wished he could see what he was doing. He worked the end of the shovel, back and forth, up and down, until he felt the suitcase fall free. Then he felt the dirt come piling down on top of it. But it wasn t a huge cave-in. As he knelt down in the hole, he could tell that only a small portion of the earth had collapsed. He dug with his hands until he found the leather handle, and then he pulled the suitcase up and out of the dirt. "I got it!" he exclaimed. It was heavy. He handed it up to Zero. "You did it," Zero said, taking it from him. "We did it," said Stanley. He gathered his remaining strength, and tried to pull himself up out of the hole. Suddenly, a bright light was shining in his face. "Thank you," said the Warden. "You boys have been a big help." 45 The beam of the flashlight was directed away from Stanley s eyes and onto Zero, who was sitting on his knees. The suitcase was on his lap. Mr. Pendanski was holding the flashlight. Mr. Sir stood next to him with his gun drawn and pointed in the same direction. Mr. Sir was barefoot and bare-chested, wearing only his pajama bottoms. The Warden moved toward Zero. She was also in her bed clothes, wearing an extra-long T-shirt. Unlike Mr. Sir, however, she had on her boots. Mr. Pendanski was the only one fully dressed. Perhaps he had been on guard duty. Off in the distance, Stanley could see two more flashlights bobbing toward them in the darkness. He felt helpless in the hole. "You boys arrived just in the nick? " the Warden started to say. She stopped talking and she stopped walking. Then she slowly backed away. A lizard had crawled up on top of the suitcase. Its big red eyes glowed in the beam of the flashlight. Its mouth was open, and Stanley could see its white tongue moving in and out between its black teeth. Zero sat as still as a statue. A second lizard crawled up over the side of the suitcase and stopped less than an inch away from Zero s little finger. Stanley was afraid to look, and afraid not to. He wondered if he should try to scramble out of the hole before the lizards turned on him, but he didn t want to cause any commotion. The second lizard crawled across Zero s fingers and halfway up his arm. It occurred to Stanley that the lizards were probably on the suitcase when he handed it to Zero. 91 "There s another one!" gasped Mr. Pendanski. He shined the flashlight on the box of Frosted Flakes, which lay on its side beside Stanley s hole. A lizard was crawling out of it. The light also illuminated Stanley s hole. He glanced downward and had to force himself to suppress a scream. He was standing in a lizard nest. He felt the scream explode inside him. He could see six lizards. There were three on the ground, two on his left leg, and one on his right sneaker. He tried to remain very still. Something was crawling up the back of his neck. Three other counselors approached the area. Stanley heard one say, "What s going? " and then whisper, "Oh my God." "What do we do?" asked Mr. Pendanski. "We wait," said the Warden. "It won t be very long." "At least we ll have a body to give that woman," said Mr. Pendanski. "She s going to ask a lot of questions," said Mr. Sir. "And this time she ll have the A.G. with her." "Let her ask her questions," said the Warden. "Just so long as I have the suitcase, I don t care what happens. Do you know how long . . ." Her voice trailed off, then started up again. "When I was little I d watch my parents dig holes, every weekend and holiday. When I got bigger, I had to dig, too. Even on Christmas." Stanley felt tiny claws dig into the side of his face as the lizard pulled itself off his neck and up past his chin. "It won t be long now," the Warden said. Stanley could hear his heart beat. Each beat told him he was still alive, at least for one more second. 46 Five hundred seconds later, his heart was still beating. Mr. Pendanski screamed. The lizard which had been in the cereal box was springing toward him. Mr. Sir shot it in midair. Stanley felt the blast shatter the air around him. The lizards scurried frantically across his very still body. He did not flinch. A lizard ran across his closed mouth. He glanced at Zero and Zero s eyes met his. Somehow they were both still alive, at least for one more second, one more heartbeat. Mr. Sir lit a cigarette. "I thought you quit," said one of the other counselors. "Yeah, well, sometimes sunflower seeds just won t cut it." He took a long drag on his cigarette. "I m going to have nightmares the rest of my life." "Maybe we should just shoot them," suggested Mr. Pendanski. "Who?" asked a counselor. "The lizards or the kids?" 92 Mr. Pendanski laughed grimly. "The kids are going to die anyway." He laughed again. "At least we got plenty of graves to choose from." "We ve got time," said the Warden. "I ve waited this long, I can wait another few . . ." Her voice trailed off. Stanley felt a lizard crawl in and out of his pocket. "We re going to keep our story simple," said the Warden. "That woman s going to ask a lot of questions. The A.G. will most likely initiate an investigation. So this is what happened Stanley tried to run away in the night, fell in a hole, and the lizards got him. That s it. We re not even going to give them Zero s body. As far as anybody knows, Zero doesn t exist. Like Mom said, we got plenty of graves to choose from." "Why would he run away if he knew he was getting released today?" asked Mr. Pendanski. "Who knows? He s crazy. That was why we couldn t release him yesterday. He was delirious, and we had to keep watch over him so he wouldn t hurt himself or anybody else." "She s not going to like it," said Mr. Pendanski. "She s not going to like anything we tell her," said the Warden. She stared at Zero and at the suitcase. "Why aren t you dead yet?" she asked. Stanley only half listened to the talk of the counselors. He didn t know who "that woman" was or what "A.G." meant. He didn t even realize they were initials. It sounded like one word, "Age-ee." His mind was focused on the tiny claws that moved up and down his skin and through his hair. He tried to think about other things. He didn t want to die with the images of the Warden, Mr. Sir, and the lizards etched into his brain. Instead, he tried to see his mother s face. His brain took him back to a time when he was very little, all bundled up in a snowsuit. He and his mother were walking, hand in hand, mitten in mitten, when they both slipped on some ice and fell and rolled down a snow-covered hillside. They ended up at the bottom of the hill. He remembered he almost cried, but instead he laughed. His mother laughed, too. He could feel the same light-headed feeling he felt then, dizzy from rolling down the hill. He felt the sharp coldness of the snow against his ear. He could see flecks of snow on his mother s bright and cheery face. This was where he wanted to be when he died. "Hey, Caveman, guess what?" said Mr. Sir. "You re innocent, after all. I thought you d like to know that. Your lawyer came to get you yesterday. Too bad you weren t here." The words meant nothing to Stanley, who was still in the snow. He and his mother climbed back up the hill and rolled down again, this time on purpose. Later they had hot chocolate with lots of melted marshmallows. "It s getting close to 4 30," said Mr. Pendanski. "They ll be waking up." The Warden told the counselors to return to the tents. She told them to give the campers breakfast and to make sure they didn t talk to anyone. As long as they did as 93 they were told, they wouldn t have to dig any more holes. If they talked, they would be severely punished. "How should we say they will be punished?" one of the counselors asked. "Let them use their imaginations," said the Warden. Stanley watched the counselors return to the tents, leaving only the Warden and Mr. Sir behind. He knew the Warden didn t care whether the campers dug any more holes or not. She d found what she was looking for. He glanced at Zero. A lizard was perched on his shoulder. Zero remained perfectly still except for his right hand, which slowly formed into a fist. Then he raised his thumb, giving Stanley the thumbs-up sign. Stanley thought back to what Mr. Sir had said to him earlier, and the bits of conversation he d overheard. He tried to make sense out of it. Mr. Sir had said something about a lawyer, but Stanley knew his parents couldn t afford a lawyer. His legs were sore from remaining rigid for so long. Standing still was more strenuous than walking. He slowly allowed himself to lean against the side of the hole. The lizards didn t seem to mind. 47 The sun was up, and Stanley s heart was still beating. There were eight lizards in the hole with him. Each one had exactly eleven yellow spots. The Warden had dark circles under her eyes from Jack of sleep, and lines across her forehead and face which seemed exaggerated in the stark morning light. Her skin looked blotchy. "Satan, "said Zero. Stanley looked at him, unsure if Zero had even spoken or if he d just imagined it. "Why don t you go see if you can take the suitcase from Zero," the Warden suggested. "Yeah, right," said Mr. Sir. "The lizards obviously aren t hungry," said the Warden. "Then you go get the suitcase," said Mr. Sir. They waited. "Sa-tan lee," said Zero. Sometime later Stanley saw a tarantula crawl across the dirt, not too far from his hole. He had never seen a tarantula before, but there was no doubt what it was. He was momentarily fascinated by it, as its big hairy body moved slowly and steadily along. "Look, a tarantula," said Mr. Sir, also fascinated. "I ve never seen one," said the Warden. "Except in? " Stanley suddenly felt a sharp sting on the side of his neck. The lizard hadn t bitten him, however. It was merely pushing off. It leapt off Stanley s neck and pounced on the tarantula. The last Stanley saw of it was one hairy leg sticking out of the lizard s mouth. 94 "Not hungry, huh?" said Mr. Sir. Stanley tried to return to the snow, but it was harder to get there when the sun was up. As the sun rose, the lizards moved lower in the hole, keeping mainly in the shade. They were no longer on his head and shoulders but had moved down to his stomach, legs, and feet. He couldn t see any lizards on Zero, but believed there were two, between Zero s knees, shaded from the sun by the suitcase. "How are you doing?" Stanley asked quietly. He didn t whisper, but his voice was dry and raspy. "My legs are numb," said Zero. "I m going to try to climb out of the hole," Stanley said. As he tried to pull himself up, using just his arms, he felt a claw dig into his ankle. He gently eased himself back down. "Is your last name your first name backward?" Zero asked. Stanley stared at him in amazement. Had he been working on that all night? He heard the sound of approaching cars. Mr. Sir and the Warden heard it as well. "You think it s them?" asked the Warden. "It ain t Girl Scouts selling cookies," said Mr. Sir. He heard the cars come to a stop, and the doors open and shut. A little while later he saw Mr. Pendanski and two strangers, coming across the lake. One was a tall man in a business suit and cowboy hat. The other was a short woman holding a briefcase. The woman had to take three steps for every two taken by the man. "Stanley Yelnats?" she called, moving out ahead of the others. "I suggest you don t come any closer," said Mr. Sir. "You can t stop me," she snapped, then took a second glance at him, wearing pajama pants and nothing else. "We ll get you out of there, Stanley," she said. "Don t you worry." She appeared to be Hispanic, with straight black hair and dark eyes. She spoke with a little bit of a Mexican accent, trilling her r s. "What in tarnation?" the tall man exclaimed, as he came up behind her. She turned on him. "I m telling you right now, if any harm comes to him, we will be filing charges not only against Ms. Walker and Camp Green Lake but the entire state of Texas as well. Child abuse. False imprisonment. Torture." The man was more than a head taller than she, and was able to look directly over her as he spoke to the Warden. "How long have they been in there?" "All night, as you can see by the way we re dressed. They snuck into my cabin while I was asleep, and stole my suitcase. I chased after them, and they ran out here and fell into the lizards nest. I don t know what they were thinking." "That s not true!" Stanley said. 95 "Stanley, as your attorney, I advise you not to say anything," said the woman, "until you and I have had a chance to talk in private." Stanley wondered why the Warden lied about the suitcase. He wondered who it legally belonged to. That was one thing he wanted to ask his lawyer, if she really was his lawyer. "It s a miracle they re still alive," said the tall man. "Yes, it is," the Warden agreed, with just a trace of disappointment in her voice. "And they better come out of this alive," Stanley s lawyer warned. "This wouldn t have happened if you d released him to me yesterday." "It wouldn t have happened if he wasn t a thief," said the Warden. "I told him he would be set free today, and I guess he decided he d try to take some of my valuables with him. He s been delirious for the last week." "Why didn t you release him when she came to you yesterday?" the tall man asked. "She didn t have proper authorization," said the Warden. "I had a court order!" "It was not authenticated," the Warden said. "Authenticated? It was signed by the judge who sentenced him." "I needed authentication from the Attorney General," said the Warden. "How do I know it s legitimate? The boys in my custody have proven themselves dangerous to society. Am I supposed to just turn them loose any time someone hands me a piece of paper?" "Yes," said the woman. "If it s a court order." "Stanley has been hospitalized for the last few days," the Warden explained. "He s been suffering from hallucinations and delirium. Ranting and raving. He was in no condition to leave. The fact that he was trying to steal from me on the day before his release proves . . ." Stanley tried to climb out of his hole, using mostly his arms so as not to disturb the lizards too much. As he pulled himself upward, the lizards moved downward, keeping out of the sun s direct rays. He swung his legs up and over, and the last of the lizards hopped off. "Thank God!" exclaimed the Warden. She started toward him, then stopped. A lizard crawled out of his pocket and down his leg. Stanley was overcome by a rush of dizziness and almost fell over. He steadied himself, then reached down, took hold of Zero s arm, and helped him slowly to his feet. Zero still held the suitcase. The lizards, which had been hiding under it, scurried quickly into the hole. Stanley and Zero staggered away. The Warden rushed to them. She hugged Zero. "Thank God, you re alive," she said, as she tried to take the suitcase from him. He jerked it free. "It belongs to Stanley," he said. "Don t cause any more trouble," the Warden warned. "You stole it from my cabin, and you ve been caught red-handed. If I press charges, Stanley might have to return to prison. Now I m willing, in view of all the circumstances, to? " "It s got his name on it," said Zero. 96 Stanley s lawyer pushed past the tall man to have a look. "See," Zero showed her. "Stanley Yelnats." Stanley looked, too. There, in big black letters, was STANLEY YELNATS. The tall man looked over the heads of the others at the name on the suitcase. "You say he stole it from your cabin?" The Warden stared at it in disbelief. "That s im . . . imposs . . . It s imposs . . ." She couldn t even say it. 48 They slowly walked back to camp. The tall man was the Texas Attorney General, the chief law enforcement officer for the state. Stanley s lawyer was named Ms. Morengo. Stanley held the suitcase. He was so tired he couldn t think straight. He felt as if he was walking in a dream, not quite able to comprehend what was going on around him. They stopped in front of the camp office. Mr. Sir went inside to get Stanley s belongings. The Attorney General told Mr. Pendanski to get the boys something to drink and eat. The Warden seemed as dazed as Stanley. "You can t even read," she said to Zero. Zero said nothing. Ms. Morengo put a hand on Stanley s shoulder and told him to hang in there. He would be seeing his parents soon. She was shorter than Stanley, but somehow gave the appearance of being tall. Mr. Pendanski returned with two cartons of orange juice and two bagels. Stanley drank the juice but didn t feel like eating anything. "Wait!" the Warden exclaimed. "I didn t say they stole the suitcase. It s his suitcase, obviously, but he put my things from my cabin inside it." "That isn t what you said earlier," said Ms. Morengo. "What s in the suitcase?" the Warden asked Stanley. "Tell us what s in it, then we ll open it and see!" Stanley didn t know what to do. "Stanley, as your lawyer, I advise you not to open your suitcase," said Ms. Morengo. "He has to open it!" said the Warden. "I have the right to check the personal property of any of the detainees. How do I know there aren t drugs or weapons in there? He stole a car, too! I ve got witnesses!" She was nearly hysterical. "He is no longer under your jurisdiction," said Stanley s lawyer. "He has not been officially released," said the Warden. "Open the suitcase, Stanley!" "Do not open it," said Stanley s lawyer. Stanley did nothing. Mr. Sir returned from the office with Stanley s backpack and clothes. 97 The Attorney General handed Ms. Morengo a sheet of paper. "You re free to go," he said to Stanley. "I know you re anxious to get out of here, so you can just keep the orange suit as a souvenir. Or burn it, whatever you want. Good luck, Stanley." He reached out his hand to shake, but Ms. Morengo hurried Stanley away. "C mon, Stanley," she said. "We have a lot to talk about." Stanley stopped and turned to look at Zero. He couldn t just leave him here. Zero gave him thumbs-up. "I can t leave Hector," Stanley said. "I suggest we go," said his lawyer with a sense of urgency in her voice. "I ll be okay," said Zero. His eyes shifted toward Mr. Pendanski on one side of him, then to the Warden and Mr. Sir on the other. "There s nothing I can do for your friend," said Ms. Morengo. "You are released pursuant to an order from the judge." "They ll kill him," said Stanley. "Your friend is not in danger," said the Attorney General. "There s going to be an investigation into everything that s happened here. For the present, I am taking charge of the camp." "C mon, Stanley," said his lawyer. "Your parents are waiting." Stanley stayed where he was. His lawyer sighed. "May I have a look at Hector s file?" she asked. "Certainly," said the Attorney General. "Ms. Walker, go get Hector s file." She looked at him blankly. "Well?" The Warden turned to Mr. Pendanski. "Bring me Hector Zeroni s file." He stared at her. "Get it!" she ordered. Mr. Pendanski went into the office. He returned a few minutes later and announced the file was apparently misplaced. The Attorney General was outraged. "What kind of camp are you running here, Ms. Walker?" The Warden said nothing. She stared at the suitcase. The Attorney General assured Stanley s lawyer that he would get the records. "Excuse me, while I call my office." He turned back to the Warden. "I assume the phone works." He walked into the camp office, slamming the door behind him. A little while later he reappeared and told the Warden he wanted to talk to her. She cursed, then went inside. Stanley gave Zero thumbs-up. "Caveman? Is that you?" He turned to see Armpit and Squid coming out of the Wreck Room. Squid shouted back into the Wreck Room, "Caveman and Zero are out here!" Soon all the boys from Group D had gathered around him and Zero. "Good to see you, man," Armpit said, shaking his hand. "We thought you were buzzard food." "Stanley is being released today," said Mr. Pendanski. 98 "Way to go," said Magnet, hitting him on the shoulder. "And you didn t even have to step on a rattlesnake," said Squid. Even Zigzag shook Stanley s hand. "Sorry about . . . you know." "It s cool," said Stanley. "We had to lift the truck clear out of the hole," Zigzag told him. "It took everybody in C, D, and E. We just picked it right up." "It was really cool," said Twitch. X-Ray was the only one who didn t come over. Stanley saw him hang back behind the others a moment, then return to the Wreck Room. "Guess what?" said Magnet, glancing at Mr. Pendanski. "Mom says we don t have to dig any more holes." "That s great," Stanley said. "Will you do me a favor?" asked Squid. "I guess," Stanley agreed, somewhat hesitantly. "I want you to? " He turned to Ms. Morengo. "Hey, lady, you have a pen and paper I can borrow?" She gave it to him, and Squid wrote down a phone number which he gave to Stanley. "Call my mom for me, okay? Tell her . . . Tell her I said I was sorry. Tell her Alan said he was sorry." Stanley promised he would. "Now you be careful out in the real world," said Armpit. "Not everybody is as nice as us." Stanley smiled. The boys departed when the Warden came out of the office. The Attorney General was right behind her. "My office is having some difficulty locating Hector Zeroni s records," the Attorney General said. "So you have no claim of authority over him?" asked Ms. Morengo. "I didn t say that. He s in the computer. We just can t access his records. It s like they ve fallen through a hole in cyberspace." "A hole in cyberspace," Ms. Morengo repeated. "How interesting. When is his release date?" "I don t know." "How long has he been here?" "Like I said, we can t? " "So what are you planning to do with him? Keep him confined indefinitely, without justification, while you go crawling through black holes in cyberspace?" The Attorney General stared at her. "He was obviously incarcerated for a reason." "Oh? And what reason was that?" The Attorney General said nothing. Stanley s lawyer took hold of Zero s hand. "C mon, Hector, you re coming with us." 49 99 There never used to be yellow-spotted lizards in the town of Green Lake. They didn t come to the area until after the lake dried up. But the townsfolk had heard about the "red-eyed monsters" living in the desert hills. One afternoon, Sam, the onion man, and his donkey, Mary Lou, were returning to his boat, which was anchored just a little off shore. It was late in November and the peach trees had lost most of their leaves. "Sam!" someone called. He turned around to see three men running after him, waving their hats. He waited. "Afternoon, Walter. Bo, Jesse," he greeted them, as they walked up, catching their breath, "Glad we caught you," said Bo. "We re going rattlesnake hunting in the morning." "We want to get some of your lizard juice," said Walter. "I ain t a-scared of no rattlesnake," said Jesse. "But I don t want to come across one of those red-eyed monsters. I seen one once, and that was enough. I knew about the red eyes, of course. I hadn t heard about the big black teeth." "It s the white tongues that get me," said Bo. Sam gave each man two bottles of pure onion juice. He told them to drink one bottle before going to bed that night, then a half bottle in the morning, and then a half bottle around lunchtime. "You sure this stuff works?" asked Walter. "I tell you what," said Sam. "If it doesn t, you can come back next week and I ll give you your money back." Walter looked around unsure, as Bo and Jesse laughed. Then Sam laughed, too. Even Mary Lou let out a rare hee-haw. "Just remember," Sam told the men before they left. "It s very important you drink a bottle tonight. You got to get it into your bloodstream. The lizards don t like onion blood." Stanley and Zero sat in the backseat of Ms. Morengo s BMW. The suitcase lay between them. It was locked, and they decided they d let Stanley s father try to open it in his workshop. "You don t know what s in it, do you?" she asked. "No," said Stanley. "I didn t think so." The air-conditioning was on, but they drove with the windows open as well, because, "No offense, but you boys really smell bad." Ms. Morengo explained that she was a patent attorney. "I m helping your father with the new product he s invented. He happened to mention your situation, so I did a little investigating. Clyde Livingston s sneakers were stolen sometime before 3 15. I found a young man, Derrick Dunne, who said that at 3 20 you were in the bathroom fishing your notebook out of the toilet. Two girls remembered seeing you come out of the boys restroom carrying a wet notebook." 100 Stanley felt his ears redden. Even after everything he d been through, the memory still caused him to feel shame. "So you couldn t have stolen them," said Ms. Morengo. "He didn t. I did," said Zero. "You did what?" asked Ms. Morengo. "I stole the sneakers." The lawyer actually turned around while driving and looked at him. "I didn t hear that," she said. "And I advise you to make sure I don t hear it again." "What did my father invent?" Stanley asked. "Did he find a way to recycle sneakers?" "No, he s still working on that," explained Ms. Morengo. "But he invented a product that eliminates foot odor. Here, I ve got a sample in my briefcase. I wish I had more. You two could bathe in it." She opened her briefcase with one hand and passed a small bottle back to Stanley. It had a fresh and somewhat spicy smell. He handed it to Zero. "What s it called?" Stanley asked. "We haven t come up with a name yet," said Ms. Morengo. "It smells familiar," said Zero. "Peaches, right?" asked Ms. Morengo. "That s what everyone says." A short while later both boys fell asleep. Behind them the sky had turned dark, and for the first time in over a hundred years, a drop of rain fell into the empty lake. PART THREE FILLING IN THE HOLES 50 Stanley s mother insists that there never was a curse. She even doubts whether Stanley s great-great-grandfather really stole a pig. The reader might find it interesting, however, that Stanley s father invented his cure for foot odor the day after the great-great-grandson of Elya Yelnats carried the great-great-great-grandson of Madame Zeroni up the mountain. The Attorney General closed Camp Green Lake. Ms. Walker, w ho was in desperate need of money, had to sell the land which had been in her family for generations. It was bought by a national organization dedicated to the well-being of young girls. In a few years, Camp Green Lake will become a Girl Scout camp. This is pretty much the end of the story. The reader probably still has some questions, but unfortunately, from here on in, the answers tend to be long and tedious. While Mrs. Bell, Stanley s former math teacher, might want to know the percent change in Stanley s weight, the reader probably cares more about the change in Stanley s 101 character and self-confidence. But those changes are subtle and hard to measure. There is no simple answer. Even the contents of the suitcase turned out to be somewhat tedious. Stanley s father pried it open in his workshop, and at first everyone gasped at the sparkling jewels. Stanley thought he and Hector had become millionaires. But the jewels were of poor quality, worth no more than twenty thousand dollars. Underneath the jewels was a stack of papers that had once belonged to the first Stanley Yelnats. These consisted of stock certificates, deeds of trust, and promissory notes. They were hard to read and even more difficult to understand. Ms. Morengo s law firm spent more than two months going through all the papers. They turned out to be a lot more valuable than the jewels. After legal fees and taxes, Stanley and Zero each received less than a million dollars. But not a lot less. It was enough for Stanley to buy his family a new house, with a laboratory in the basement, and for Hector to hire a team of private investigators. But it would be boring to go through all the tedious details of all the changes in their lives. Instead, the reader will be presented with one last scene, which took place almost a year and a half after Stanley and Hector left Camp Green Lake. You will have to fill in the holes yourself. There was a small party at the Yelnats house. Except for Stanley and Hector, everyone there was an adult. All kinds of snacks and drinks were set out on the counter, including caviar, champagne, and the fixings to make ice cream sundaes. The Super Bowl was on television, but nobody was really watching. "It should be coming on at the next break," Ms. Morengo announced. A time-out was called in the football game, and a commercial came on the screen. Everyone stopped talking and watched. The commercial showed a baseball game. Amid a cloud of dust, Clyde Livingston slid into home plate as the catcher caught the ball and tried to tag him out. "Safe!" shouted the umpire as he signaled with his arms. The people at Stanley s house cheered, as if the run really counted. Clyde Livingston got up and dusted the dirt off his uniform. As he made his way back to the dugout, he spoke to the camera. "Hi, I m Clyde Livingston, but everyone around here calls me Sweet Feet. " "Way to go, Sweet Feet!" said another baseball player, slapping his hand. Besides being on the television screen, Clyde Livingston was also sitting on the couch next to Stanley. "But my feet weren t always sweet," the television Clyde Livingston said as he sat down on the dugout bench. "They used to smell so bad that nobody would sit near me in the dugout." "They really did stink," said the woman sitting on the couch on the other side of Clyde. She held her nose with one hand, and fanned the air with the other. Clyde shushed her. 102 "Then a teammate told me about Sploosh," said the television Clyde. He pulled a can of Sploosh out from under the dugout bench and held it up for everyone to see. "I just spray a little on each foot every morning, and now I really do have sweet feet. Plus, I like the tingle." "Sploosh," said a voice. "A treat for your feet. Made from all natural ingredients, it neutralizes odor-causing fungi and bacteria. Plus, you ll like the tingle." Everyone at the party clapped their hands. "He wasn t lying," said the woman who sat next to Clyde. "I couldn t even be in the same room with his socks." The other people at the party laughed. The woman continued. "I m not joking. It was so bad? " "You ve made your point," said Clyde, covering her mouth with his hand. He looked back at Stanley. "Will you do me a favor, Stanley?" Stanley raised and lowered his left shoulder. "I m going to get more caviar," said Clyde. "Keep your hand over my wife s mouth." He patted Stanley on the shoulder as he rose from the couch. Stanley looked uncertainly at his hand, then at Clyde Livingston s wife. She winked at him. He felt himself blush, and turned away toward Hector, who was sitting on the floor in front of an overstuffed chair. A woman sitting in the chair behind Hector was absent-mindedly fluffing his hair with her fingers. She wasn t very old, but her skin had a weathered look to it, almost like leather. Her eyes seemed weary, as if she d seen too many things in her life that she didn t want to see. And when she smiled, her mouth seemed too big for her face. Very softly, she half sang, half hummed a song that her grandmother used to sing to her when she was a little girl. If only, if only, the moon speaks no reply; Reflecting the sun and all that s gone by. Be strong my weary wolf, turn around boldly. Fly high, my baby bird, My angel, my only.

• Monja-Yaki - Holborn Station

  https://w.atwiki.jp/wittard/pages/17.html

  順番 場所 種別 報告 内容 クエスト名 NPC 1 RUSSELL SQUARE M 要 NPCからA　MESSAGE FROM DR.FAWKESを受け取り、Holborn Stationで報告 Forage MURMUR 2 TOTTEMHAM COURT S ↓ ZOMBIEを10匹倒す。報告するとDAY OF THE ZOMBIESが発生 Down of the Zombies GEORGE S 要 ネームドTANTORUS(Necropolisタイプ)。報告するとWART S SECRETが発生 A Leg Up JOEY 3 HOLBORN ACCESS SHAFTS M ↓ 敵からCAPACITORを8個取得（敵の種類問わず）。報告するとA FINE WELCOMEが発生(MURMUR) Break on Through TECHSMITH101 S 要 BLOOD ZOMBIEを8匹倒す Day of the Zombies GEORGE 4 COVENT GARDEN APPROACH S ↓ ネームドTYPHOID MARY(女ゾンビタイプ)を倒す Night of the Zombies GEORGE S ↓ FELLBOREを12匹倒す Wart s Secret JOEY 5 　└　COVENT GARDEN STATION M 要 MURMURと話したのち、BRANDON LANNにA MESSAGE FROM DR.FAWKESを渡す A Fine Welcome MURMUR,BRANDON LANN

• Piropedia - 2006年ワールドカップ　フォークロス　男子

  https://w.atwiki.jp/wiki6_piro/pages/1548.html

  2006年ワールドカップ フォークロス 男子 #6　オーストリア　シュラドミン 1 カミル・タタルコビッチ CZE Kona Les Gets 2 ヨースト・ウィックマン NED Cannondale 3 Rudiger JAHNEL AUT 4 ミケル・プロコップ CZE Author 5 ダン・アサートン GBR ANIMAL GIANT 6 ミック・ハナー AUS CANNODALE THE CUT 7 Leiv Ove NORDMARK NOR 8 ジー・アサートン GBR ANIMAL GIANT #5 ブラジル　バルネアリオ・カンボリウ 1 ミケル・プロコップ CZE Author 2 ジャレッド・グレイヴス AUS Yeti Fox 3 クリス・パウエル USA Specialized 4 カミル・タタルコビッチ CZE Kona Les Gets 5 Roger Rinderknecht SUI GT/Oakley 6 セドリック・グラシア FRA COMMENCAL 7 Jose Escudero ECU Zenith MTB 8 ダン・アサートン GBR ANIMAL GIANT #4　カナダ　モンサンタン 1 ミケル・プロコップ CZE Author 2 ユルグ・メイヤー NED CANNONDALE NETHERLAND 3 Roger Rinderknecht SUI GT/Oakley 4 ジー・アサートン GBR ANIMAL GIANT 5 ジャレッド・グレイヴス AUS Yeti Fox 6 ウィル・ロングデン GBR MBUK Santacruz 7 ルーク・ストロム AUS 8 クリス・パウエル USA Specialized #3　ドイツ　ウィリンゲン 1 ジャレッド・グレイヴス AUS Yeti 2 ヨースト・ウィックマン NED Cannondale 3 Roger Rinderknecht SUI GT/Oakley 4 ミケル・プロコップ CZE Author 5 クリス・パウエル USA Specialized 6 ユルグ・メイヤー　 NED CANNONDALE NETHERLAND 7 カミル・タタルコビッチ CZE Kona Les Gets 8 ギド・チュッグ GER Fusion ジャレッド・グレイヴスがワールドカップ初優勝。 ヨースト・ウィックマンも自己最高位だった#1の4位を更新。 ブライアン・ロープスは練習中に肩を脱臼したが、次戦には復帰できる予定。 #2　イギリス　フォートウィリアム 1 ミケル・プロコップ CZE AUTHOR 2 ブライアン・ロープス USA GT 3 クリス・コヴァリック AUS MS-INTENSE 4 ミケル・デルディーク FRA FIAT ROTWILD 5 セドリック・グラシア FRA COMMENCAL 6 ジー・アサートン GBR ANIMAL GIANT 7 ギド・チュッグ GER FUSION 8 ミケル・マローシ CZE ARBö RSP DHR #1　スペイン　VIGO 1 ミケル・プロコップ CZE AUTHOR 2 Roger Rinderknecht SUI GT 3 カミル・タタルコビッチ CZE KONA LES GETS 4 ヨースト・ウィックマン NED CANNONDALE NETHERLAND 5 ジャレッド・グレイヴス AUS Yeti Fox 6 クリス・パウエル USA SPECIALIZED 7 Lukas Tamme CZE 8 セドリック・グラシア FRA COMMENCAL 関連項目 Cedric Gracia Chris Kovarik Mick Hannah Nathan Rennie ルーク・ストロム

• 鍛冶屋物語　－Smith Story－ 遥か遠くにある鍛冶屋@ ウィキ - 古いコイン

  https://w.atwiki.jp/smithstory/pages/23.html

  クエスト名 内容 報酬 解放条件 反復 用品商 　枯木の汁×500 　経験値10　金貨100000　古いコイン×1 　- 　36時間（1.5日） 吟遊詩人の憂鬱 　聖光の弦×100 　経験値50　古いコイン×5 　用品商 　84時間(3.5日) ウサギを食べっちゃダメでしょう 　生兎肉×1000 　経験値70　古いコイン×1 　- 　4時間 廃棄物リサイクル計画 　廃材×90000 　経験値100　古いコイン×1 　- カードコレクター 　ビーストのカード×1 　経験値100　金貨1000　古いコイン×1 - 1日6時間（30時間） ４H ウサギ　１枚 ８H ウサギ　１枚 12H　ウサギ　１枚 16H　ウサギ　１枚 20H　ウサギ　１枚 24H　ウサギ　１枚 28H　ウサギ　１枚 30H　カード　１枚 32H　ウサギ　１枚 36H　ウサギ　用品　２枚 40H　ウサギ　１枚 44H　ウサギ　１枚 48H　ウサギ　１枚 52H　ウサギ　１枚 56H　ウサギ　１枚 60H　ウサギ　カード　２枚 64H　ウサギ　１枚 68H　ウサギ　１枚 72H　ウサギ　用品　２枚 76H　ウサギ　１枚 80H　ウサギ　１枚 84H　ウサギ　詩人　６枚 30枚

• elvis @Wiki - Chronicle Books 5

  https://w.atwiki.jp/elvis/pages/1313.html

  Playboy Brunettes (Playboy) James R. Petersen Animal Flash Cards Eric Carle Stuff on My Cat Daily 2007 Calendar Lotta Jansdotter Sticky Notes Lotta Jansdotter The New Color Book 45,000 Color Combinations for Your Home Emma CleggChronicle Books Celtic Symbols 18 Rubber Stamps Jim Paul The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle Haruki MurakamiJay Rubin Oh! My God! I Miss You (Collectible Postcards) Yoshitomo Nara Playboy The Celebrities Gary ColeHugh M. Hefner Lettres Stationery Box (Stationery Boxes) Julie Addison The Secrets of the Camera Obscura Novella David Knowles? 52 Adventures in New York City (52 Decks) Lynn GordonSusan Synarski Places to Go With Children in Washington, D.C (Fun Places to Go) Judy Colbert? Living in the Sun The Spanish Mediterranean Islands Majorca, Minorca, Ibiza, Formentera Melba Levick?Colman Andrews? American Prospects Photographs Joel Sternfeld? Book of Lame Excuses Dan Piraro? Streamline American Art Deco Graphic Design Steven HellerLouise Fili? Apples, Pears and Berries Six Assorted Notecards and Envelopes Deborah Schenck The Book of Dream Symbols (Prospero's Library) Peter Bently? Sumo Bizarro Dan Piraro? White Rabbit A Psychedelic Reader John Miller?Randall Koral? Things I Can Make Sabine Lohf? Pears Linda West Eckhardt?Karl Petzke? Down to Earth Great Recipes for Root Vegetables Georgeanne Brennan Fire on the Mountain The Nature of Volcanoes Dorian Weisel?Carl Johnson? Les Immortelles Everlasting Blooms - The Beauty of Dried Flowers Georgeanne BrennanKathryn Kleinman Seven Mythical Creatures A Pop-Up Book Celia King? The Asian Grill David Barich?Thomas Ingalls? Alaska Stories Tales from the Last Frontier John Miller?Kirsten Miller? Cheap Sleeps in London Sandra Gustafson? Cats in the Sun Hans Silvester Degas at the Ballet A Book to Keep and 15 Different Cards to Send/Book and Postcards Aurum Press? Hong Kong (Chronicles Abroad) John Miller?Kirsten Miller? Cinderella's Revenge Samuele Mazza? 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Phillips?John Szarkowski? Star Shapes Peter Malone? Cheap Eats in Hawaii The Savvy Traveler's Guide to the Best Meals at the Best Prices Sandra A. Gustafson? The Secret Language of Dreams A Visual Key to Dreams and Their Meanings David Fontana? Griffin Sabine 20 Assorted Notecards Envelopes/Cards Nick Bantock Eye Count A Book of Counting Puzzles Linda Bourke? At Home in the Garden The Musings of a Victorian Gardener Gail Hamilton?Pat Ross? Diamonds Are Forever/Bookcards Ghosts of the Skies Aviation in the Second World War Philip Makanna? Les Chiens De Paris/Dogs in Paris Dogs in Paris Barnaby Conrad? Pig Cookies and Other Stories Alberto Alvaro Rios? Matisse/20 Notecards Envelopes San Francisco Museum of Modern Art? Visual Feast An Illustrated Recipe Journal Woodleigh Marx Hubbard?Layne Allen Longfellow? 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The Tattooed Map Barbara Hodgson A Little History of Ireland Martin Wallace?Ian McCullough? Beth's Basic Bread Book Simple Techniques and Simply Delicious Recipes for Foolproof Baking Beth HenspergerGeorgia Deaver?Ilisa Katz? A Little Book of Campfire Songs Brian Denington? Istanbul/Tales of the City (Istanbul) John Miller?Kirsten Miller? Cooking for Heart and Soul 100 Delicious Low-Fat Recipes from San Francisco's Top Chefs A Cookbook to Benefit the San Francisco Food Bank Stanley Eichelbaum? Spirit Faces Contemporary Native American Masks from the Northwest Gary Wyatt? Ruth Bernhard The Eternal Body A Collection of Fifty Nudes Ruth Bernhard?Margaretta Mitchell? Arts and Crafts of Mexico Chloe Sayer?David Lavender? Hey Skinny! Great Advertisements from the Golden Age of Comic Books Jerry Leibowitz?Miles Beller? Letter on Happiness Epicurus?Robin Waterfield? 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The Little Wisdom Library Tribal Wisdom Yanomami Masters of the Spirit World, Maasai People of Cattle, Lardil Keepers of the Dreamtime David McKnight?David M. Anderson?Paul Henley? Bears at Work A Book of Bearable Jobs Gage Taylor? Texas Stories/Tales from the Lone Star State Tales from the Lone Star State John Miller?Kirsten Miller? Eichler Homes Design for Living Jerry Ditto?Lanning Stern?Marvin Wax? The Water's Edge Sally Gall?James Salter? Focaccia Simple Breads from the Italian Oven Carol Field?Joyce Oudkerk Pool? Weekends for Two in New England 50 Romantic Getaways Bill Gleeson? Visions of the North Native Arts of the Northwest Coast Don McQuiston?Debra McQuiston?Lynne Bush?Tom Till? Albert Goes to Town Jennifer Jordan?Shannon McNeill? Our Town 50 Terrific Bay Area Escapes Gary Kauf?Roland De Wolk? Across the Aegean An Artist's Journey from Athens to Istanbul Marlene McLoughlin? Once upon a Lily Pad Froggy Love in Monet's Garden Joan Sweeney?Kathleen Fain? 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Eye Spy A Mysterious Alphabet Linda Bourke? N.C. Wyeth's Pilgrims Robert D. San Souci?N. C. Wyeth? Pasta Book Recipes in the Italian Tradition Julia Della Croce?Julia Della Croce? Vincent Van Gogh A Book to Keep and 15 Different Cards to Send (The Postbox Collection) Aurum Press? Fabulous Fabrics of the 50s (And Other Terrific Textiles of the 20s, 30s, and 40s) Gideon BoskerMichele ManciniJohn Gramsted The River A Nature Panorama (Deming, Susan. Nature Panorama.) Susan Deming? Sunshine Daydreams A Grateful Dead Journal Herb Greene? Ancient Forests A Celebration of North America's Old-Growth Wilderness David Middleton? Forest A Nature Panorama Board Book (Deming, Susan. Nature Panorama.) Susan Deming? Places to Go with Children in Washington DC Judy Colbert? James McNair's Salads Jim Hildreth?James McNair? The Complete Coffee Book A Gourmet Guide to Buying, Brewing and Cooking Sara Perry?Edward Gowans? James McNair's Fish Cookbook James McNair? 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Trademarks of the 40's and 50's Eric Baker?Tyler Blik? Abyss of Despair / Yeven Metzulah The Famous 17th Century Chronicle Depicting Jewish Life in Russia and Poland During the Chmielnicki Massacres of 1648-1649 = Yeven Metzulah (Judaica Series (Transaction Books).) Nathan Nata Hannover?Abraham J. Mesch? Designage The Art of the Decorative Sign Arnold Schwartzman? Chronicle (Classical Armenian Texts) Mister Got to Go The Cat That Wouldn't Leave (Northern Lights Books for Children) Lois Simmie?Cynthia Nugent? Chronicle of a Small Town (Wardlaw Books) Jim W. Corder? The Masters of Capital A Chronicle of Wall Street, the John Moody? Beyond Abortion A Chronicle of Fetal Experimentation Suzanne M. Rini? The Morning Chronicle Survey of Labour and the Poor Henry Mayhew? Modern Typography An Essay in Critical History Robin Kinross? Designing Books Practice and Theory Jost Hochuli?Robin Kinross? Family Chronicle Charles Reznikoff? Exploration Discovery The Chronicle of American History from 1492 to 1606 (Making of America Series) William Yenne? Our Colonial Period The Chronicle of American History from 1607 to 1770 (Making of America Series) Bill Yenne? Rise of a New Nation The Chronicle of American History from 1787 to 1815 (The Making of America) Stephen Feinstein? Opening of the Western Frontier The Chronicle of American History from 1816-1869 (The Making of America) Marty Jezer? The Civil War The Chronicle of American History from 1861-1865 (The Making of America) Marty Jezer? When the Water Smokes A Peltier Creek Chronicle Bob Simpson? Carousel Animal Tobin Fraley? Mountain Spirits A Chronicle of Corn Whiskey from King James' Ulster Plantation to America's Appalachians and the Moonshine Life Joseph Earl Dabney? More Mountain Spirits The Continuing Chronicle of Moonshine Life and Corn Whiskey, Wines, Ciders Beers in America's Appalachians Joseph Earl Dabney? Land of Lincoln, Thy Wondrous Story 150th Jubilee Chronicle of the Illinois State Society of Washington, D.c. Mark Q. Rhoads? Chronicle of a Border Town History of Rye 1660-1870 Charles W. Baird? Sand for Snow A Caribbean-Canadian Chronicle Robert Edison Sandiford? A Chronicle of Our House Merilyn Mohr? Intimate Fragments An Irreverent Chronicle of Early Halifax Robert Kroll? Nine Boats and Nine Kids A True Chronicle Jeanne S. Merkel? Nine Boats and Nine Kids A True Chronicle Jeanne S. Merkel? Longest Night Chronicle of a Dead City (Nostos Books on Modern Greek History and Culture, 14) Petros Haris? Camino Chronicle Walking to Santiago Susan Alcorn? Fine Print on Type The Best of Fine Print Magazine on Type and Typography Charles Bigelow?Paul Hayden Duensing?Linnea Gentry? Stuart Davis and Salander O'Reilly Stuart Davis? The Fletch Chronicle Fletch, Carioca Fletch, Confess Fletch (Rediscovery Books) Gregory McDonald? Chronicle in Stone Ismail Kadare? Chronicle in Stone Ismail Kadare? Chronicle of the Guayaki Indians Pierre Clastres?Paul Auster? Chronicle of the Guayaki Indians Pierre Clastres?Paul Auster? How Grand a Flame A Chronicle of a Plantation Family, 1813-1947 Clyde Bresee? Down Memory Lane Bath Chronicle ? James McNair Cooks Italian James McNair? Alison's Legacy An Alma Chronicle (Alma Chronicles) Toby Heathcotte? Wildflowers in Cross Stitch Twenty Three Creative Embroidery Designs Jane Iles? Return to Aten The Second Chronicle of Aten (The Chronicles of Aten) Lynn Sinclair? Martyrs' Day Chronicle of a Small War Michael Kelly? Chronicle of a Blood Merchant Andrew F. Jones?Yu Hua? Clay Today Contemporary Ceramists and Their Work Martha Drexler Lynn?Los Angeles County Museum of Art? Native American Portraits 1862-1918 Nancy Hathaway? Baghdad Diaries A Woman's Chronicle of War and Exile (Vintage) Nuha Radi?Nuha Al-Radi? The Wicker-Work Woman A Chronicle of Our Own Times Anatole France? Jarhead A Marine's Chronicle of the Gulf War And Other Battles Anthony Swofford? Now It's My Turn A Daughter's Chronicle of Political Life Mary Cheney? Arthur Spiderwick's Field Guide (Spiderwick Chronicle) Holly Black?Tony DiTerlizzi? Doggerel Great Poets on Remarkable Dogs Martha Paulos? The Year the Red Sox Won the Series A Chronicle of the 1918 Championship Season Mel Springer?Ty Waterman? The T'Ai Chi Boxing Chronicle Lien-Ying Kuo?Guttman? The Book of Tziril A Family Chronicle Bess Waldman? The Lion Family Book (Animal Family (Chronicle)) Angelika Hofer?Gunter Ziesler?

• ShadowCorridor - ゲームWiki - 古いカメラ

  https://w.atwiki.jp/kagerou/pages/79.html

  ＜ 富〇フラッシュ！ 取得条件 回廊内より取得 達成の証「おたすけセット」をセット 概要 フラッシュバルブ式の古いカメラ フィルムが入ってない為撮影は出来ないが、電球のフラッシュで徘徊者をスタンさせたり 危険な蟲を追い払うことができる 彷徨う魂にも効くため、かなり万能なアイテムといえる スタン時間は対象を撮影した距離により 遠ければ短く、近ければ長くスタンする 使用できる回数は取得した個数により、１個取ったら１回 ３個取ったら３回使えるという感じである １度使うごとに20秒間(初心者モードは10秒)のクールタイムが発生する (ゲーム内では「電球を交換する必要があるため」との事) クールタイムは画面右下の電球マークを確認しよう ちなみに水晶玉効果中は古いカメラを使うことが出来ない 霊魂の淵叢など追い込まれて同時使用しないように気を付けよう 小ネタ 残り１枚の時に古いカメラを使用し、その後古いカメラを再取得すると カメラのリチャージが取得時に発生するバグがある チャージが完了しているかをしっかり確認しておこう

• elvis @Wiki - Chronicle Books 18

  https://w.atwiki.jp/elvis/pages/1326.html

  Orchids Deluxe Notecards with Envelope (Deluxe Notecards) Eric HansenChronicle Books Oh Boy Chronicle BooksOh Boy? Singer Sargent Portraits Chronicle Books Wine and Food Lover's Diet 28 Days of Delicious Weight Loss Phillip F. J., M.D. Tirman? Love on the Mountain The Chronicle Journal of a Camaldolese Monk Robert Hale? Wonder Woman The Life and Times of the Amazon Princess Les Daniels Fairest Fowl (Deluxe Notecards) Tamara Staples? Diamonds Are Forever (Bookcards/Prepack of 6) Chronicle Books Redstone Address Book Oh Boy Red Daisy Oh Boy?Boy Oh?Chronicle Books Winged Migration The Junior Edition Stephane Durand?Guillaume Poyet? I De Morka Rummen I De Ljusa Bo Carpelan? A Chronicle of the Staffordshire General Infirmary Tereenlall Ramgopal? Oh Boy Henry Quiroga Hansel And Gretel / Hansel Y Gretel (Bilingual Fairy Tales) Elisabet Abeya?Cristina Losantos? The Chronicle of Ireland (The Chronicles of Ireland) Patrick Fitzgerald? Sandman Journal Death Vertigo/DC Comics?Vertigo?DC Comics Sligo 1914-1921 a Chronicle of Conflict M. Farry? Morning Dance Todd Hannert? Wildflowers 20 Assorted Notecards Envelopes (Deluxe Notecards) Deborah Schenck The Chronicle of Ireland (The Chronicles of Ireland) Patrick Fitzgerald? Classic Movie Posters 30 Postcards (Turner Classic Movies) Horses The Art of Deborah Butterfield Marcia Tucker? The Chronicle of Ireland (The Chronicles of Ireland) Patrick Fitzgerald? San Francisco Stories Great Writers on the City John Miller? The Chronicle of Ireland (Chronicle of Ireland) Patrick Fitzgerald? Prinz Eisenbeton 2 Projects 96 to 99 Wolf D. Prix? Fun Places to Go With Children in Northern Calififornia 9th Edition over 350 Lsitngs, Completely Revised and Updated (Fun Places to Go With Children in Northern California) Elizabeth Pomada? A Shaker's Dozen Kathleen Homsen?Paul Rocheleau? From Cane Fields to Freedom A Chronicle of Indian South African Life Uma Shashikant Dhupelia? Junior College Gary Soto? Ask It! 50 Fun Questions To Get Families Talking Cameron Bassett Moore?Maura Hewitt Waltrip? New York (Deluxe Notecards) Anne Rooney? Chron Notes L'Acrobate (Revised) Chronicle BooksGrady McFerrin? Art Nouveau Box of Labels Chronicle BooksFine Arts Bost Museum? Chronicle Notes Lucky Bamboo and Lanterns 12 Notecards and Envelopes Misha Zadeh? The Chronicle of Ireland (Chronicle of Ireland) Patrick Fitzgerald? Billy Al Bengston Karen Tsujimoto? The Chronicle of Ireland (The Chronicles of Ireland) Patrick Fitzgerald? Mensa for Kids 75 Word Puzzles Counterpunch Making Type in the Sixteenth Century, Designing Typefaces Now Fred Smeijers?Robin Kinross? Worst-Case Scenario Holiday Survival Card 12 Holiday Cards and Envelopes Joshua PivenDavid Borgenicht The Ugly Duckling/el Patito Feo (Bilingual Fairy Tales) Merce Escardo I Bas?Max? The Newlyweds' Book of Firsts A Keepsake Journal Lane Walker Foard? Bentley's Chronicle Brian Pentangle? Face Forward Young African American Men in a Critical Age Julian C. R. Okwu? Miro A Book and 29 Decorative Stanps (Artstamps) The Bad Girl's Mix And Match Stationery Cameron TuttleSusannah Bettag Assorted Roses Rsi Promotions? The Chronicle of Catherine Eddy Beveridge An American Girl Travels into the Twentieth Century Albert J. Beveridge?Susan Radomsky?Catherine Eddy Beveridge? San Francisco Album Photographs, 1854-1856 G. R. Fardon?Rodger C. Birt?Fraenkel Gallery?Hans P. Kraus? The Meaning of Trees Botany, History, Healing, Lore Fred Hageneder?Edward Parker? Palestine Chronicle 1880-1950 F.A. Pragnell? Radiance Philippe Glade? The Western Gardener's Journal A Three-Year Almanac Margaret Moulton? An Illustrated Chronicle of My Family Covering 200 Years Winston Jones? Emily and Albert Jan Ormerod?David Slonim? Space Planner A Home Decorating Design Workbook Meg Mateo Ilasco? Ivy and Bean and the Ghost That Had to Go (Ivy and Bean) Annie Barrows?Sophie Blackall? 52 After School Activities (52 Decks) Lynn Gordon Batman Notepad Inc. DC Comics? Catwoman Notepad Inc. DC Comics? Superman Notepad Inc. DC Comics? Wonder Woman Notepad Inc. DC Comics? Chronicle Notes Poppies and Hyacinths 12 Notecards and Envelopes Misha Zadeh? The Chronicle of Ireland (The Chronicles of Ireland) Patrick Fitzgerald? Bears at Work Gage Taylor? Oopsy Daisy 6 Assorted Valentines and Envelopes (Valentine Vixens) Chronicle Books Flying Feet A Story Of Irish Dance Anna Marlis Burgard?Dees Leighanne? Apla Holiday Cards with Cards and Envelope The Flower in the Skull Kathleen Alcala? Children's Chronicle of World History Christos Kondeatis? Junior Chronicle of Discovery and Invention (Chronicles S) Philip Wilkinson?Peter North? Modern Postcards Masterworks of the Twentieth Century San Francisco Museum of Modern Art? Apla Holiday Cards with Cards and Envelope Hilary Swank? Indian Style/Postcards Suzanne Slesin?Stafford Cliff?David Brittain? Griffin Sabine Deluxe Nick Bantock China Blossoms (Deluxe Notecards) Asian Art Museum of San Francisco?Chronicle Books Legacy of the Dog The Ultimate Illustrated Guide to over 200 Breeds Tetsu Yamazaki Longman Book Project Non-Fiction Reference Books Chronicles Chronicle of Childhood (Longman Book Project) Bobbie Neate? Apla Holiday Card The Chronicle of Ireland (The Chronicles of Ireland) Patrick Fitzgerald? Chronicle Notes Lucky Bamboo/lantern (Chronicle Notes) Misha Zadeh? Chronicle Notes Poppies/hyacinth (Chronicle Notes) Misha Zadeh? P.S. I Love You Barbara Lavallee? Secret Language of Dreams A Visual Key to Dreams and Their Meanings (Secret Language) David Fontana? Nancy Drew The Secret in the Old Attic Journal (Nancy Drew Mystery Stories) The Diary Deck About Teens by Teens (Between Girls) Linda Ketelhut? Francis, the Earthquake Dog Judith Ross Enderle?Stephanie Gordon Tessler?Brooke Scudder? Children's Chronicle of Dinosaurs (Chronicles S) Angela C Milner?Ray Burrows? Hiroshige's Scenes of Mt. Fuji Utagawa Hiroshige? Confection-ery Mix and Match Stationery (Mix and Match Stationery) Amy Ennis? I Live in Fantasyland... And I Have Oceanfront Property Photographs (Tainted Ladies) Anne Taintor? Goldilocks and the Three Bears/Ricitos De Oro Y Los Tres Osos Ricitos De Oro Y Los Tres Osos (Bilingual Fairy Tales) Marta Mata I Garriga?Marta MataArnal BallesterAlis Alejandro From Star Wars to Indiana Jones The Best of the Lucasfilm Archives Mark Cotta VazShinji Hata? The Olive Harvest Cookbook Olive Oil Lore and Recipes from McEvoy Ranch Joyce Goldstein?Gerald Gass?Nan Tucker McEvoy?Maren Caruso? Aerobleu Stationery Mug Set Paris Chronicle Books Mr. Lunch Highly Professional Address Book J.otto SeiboldVivian Walsh Outside Inside Kathleen Fain? The Morning Chronicle Survey of Labour and the Poor Henry Mayhew? Cine Mexicano 40 Collectible Postcards Rogelio Agrasanchez? Ruby's Wish Shirin Yim Bridges?Sophie Blackall? Pet Boy Keith Graves Punch Colleen Mullaney?Jack Deutsch? Brilliance (Deluxe Notecards) Philippe Glade?Chronicle Books A Little Jewish Cookbook Barbara Bloch?Fiona Leibowitz? Fashion Illustration Next Laird Borrelli? Garden Bouquets Deluxe Notecards with Envelope (Deluxe Notecards) Kathryn Kleinman Leave Your Mark Here Journal (Between Girls) Celeste Kadatz?Tracy McGuinness? Airborne The New Dance Photography of Lois Greenfield Lois GreenfieldDaniel Giradin?William A. Ewing? Naughty Bad Girl Notepad (Be a Bad Girl) Cameron TuttleSusannah Bettag Not a Title Chronicle Books Not a Title Chronicle Books The Chronicle of Ireland (The Chronicles of Ireland) Patrick Fitzgerald? Kathy Casey's Northwest Cooking Oregon Washington British Columbia Southern Alaska Kathy Casey? Tour America (Scholastic Book Chroniclestaff? The Bunny Book How to Walk, Talk, Tease, and Please Like a Playboy Bunny Deanna Brooks?Pennelope Jimenez?Serria Tawan? The Story of the Treasure Seekers Being the Adventures of the Bastable Children in Search of a Fortune Peter Glassman?Edith Nesbit?Gordon Browne?Lewis Christopher Edward Baumer? Scary Stories Barry Moser?Peter Glassman? Ballenas Asesinas/Killer Whales Killer Whales (Seemore Readers (Spanish)) Seymour Simon Witch's Brew Love Spells Deck 36 Spells for Romance And Passion Witch Bree? Sword of Fire and Shadow The Third Chronicle of Fionn Mac Cumhal (The Chronicle of Fionn Mac Cumhal, No 3) Diana L. Paxson?Adrienne Martine-Barnes? Sylvia Long's Deck the Hall BB Chronicle Books 52 Fun Party Activities for Kids/Includes Edible Jewelry, Wishing Web, and Balloon Races (52 Decks) Lynn Gordon Dinosaur Valley Mitsuhiro Kurokawa? Life Coach in a Box A Motivational Kit for Making the Most Out of Life Carol Stanton? The Splenda World of Sweetness Recipes for Homemade Desserts And Delicious Drinks Alison Miksch? Joie Warner's No-Cook Pasta Sauces Joie Warner? Baby's Own Book Chronicle Notes Buttercup and Honey 12 Notecards and Envelopes Chronicle BooksEgg Press? Milton Hayde Ardalan Worst Case Bk of Questions 6-C Dspl Joshua PivenDavid Borgenicht Roses 20 Assorted Notecards Envelopes (Deluxe Notecards) Deborah Schenck Chron Notes Shoes/Shop (Revised) Chronicle BooksMary Lynn Blasutta Happy Birthday to Me A Keepsake Album of Celebrations The Shield Between the Worlds The Second Chronicle of Fionn Mac Cumhal Diana L. Paxson?Adrienne Martine-Barnes? Putting Things in Order A Journal to Organize Your Life for the Next Generation David Finkle?Ellen Baumritter? Dog Days An Animal Chronicle (Caraf Books) Amy Baram Reid?Alain Patrice Nganang? Dog Days An Animal Chronicle (Caraf Books) Amy Baram Reid?Alain Patrice Nganang? Doomsdeath Chronicle Tim Stout? Arthur Spiderwick's Care and Feeding of Sprites (Spiderwick Chronicle) Holly Black?Tony DiTerlizzi? Abroad A Travel Organizer Julianne Balmain? Matt Tyler's Chronicle Christopher Webb? Car Talk 2007 Calendar 365 Tips, Tricks, Jokes, And Puzzlers from America's Funniest Mechanics (Calendar) Tom Magliozzi?Ray Magliozzi? Cool Cat 1995 Wall Calendar Imogen Cunningham Ideas Without End A Life in Photographs Richard Lorenz? Streamlined A Metaphor for Progress The Esthetics of Minimized Drag Franz Engler?Claude Lichtenstein? All My Best Friends Are Animals (Chronicle Artcards Series) Ward Schumaker? Soccer for Kids Osvaldo S. Garcia? Paintings of Henry Miller Paint As You Like and Die Happy Henry Miller? Villain's Guide to Better Living Neil Zawacki?Bill Brown? Mystery of Drear House The Conclusion of the Dies Drear Chronicle (Apple Signature) Virginia Hamilton? Dog Prints A Book of Postcards Ruth Silverman? Raiders Oakland's Spectacular Championship Season San Francisco Chronicle? Chiang Mai Chronicle D.K. Wyatt?Aroonrat Wichienkeoo? Places to Go With Children Around Puget Sound Elton Welke? Ghosts Time Remembered Wall Calen Masterworks of Japanese Painting for Windows Chronicle Books Aldo Rossi Aldo Rossi? Josef Muller-Brockmann Designer A Pioneer of Swiss Graphic Design Lars Muller? Alison's Legacy An Alma Chronicle Toby Heathcotte? Emily Her Posse Journal (Emily the Strange) Cal 99 Lisbeth Zwerger Fairy Tale Calendar James Dean Revisited Dennis Stock? Family Stories You Can Relate to (Reading Rainbow Readers) Various Artists?Chronicle Books Male Mystique Jacques Boyreau? Heaven on the Halfshell Edible Treasures from the Sea Tom Chapman? Living Colors A Designer's Guide to 80 Essential Palettes from Ancient to Modern Times Margaret Walch?Augustine Hope? Borges An Intimate Portrait Estela Canto?Elaine Kerrigan? Cal 95 On Flowers/Spiral Engagement Biking L.A. The Complete Bicycling Guide to Greater Los Angeles Mary Beth Crain? Robert Mapplethorpe the Catalogue Raisonne for Windows Chronicle Books Chronicle of Canada Cal 95 Dream Fields The Panoramic Photographs of Jim Dow/Easel Jim Dow? James McNair's Fish Cookbook James McNair? Shelf Life J. Jankowski? Emily I Want You to Leave Me a (Emily the Strange) Images of Northampton (Images Of...) Seemore Readers Emergency Vehicles Seymour SimonChronicle Books Cal 95 Italian Art Deco Steven HellerLouise Fili? Banner Fiona Banner? We All Fall Down A Chronicle of an Impeachment Foretold William Keisling? Fun Games Things to Make and Do (Crafty Girl) Jennifer Traig? Masterpieces Up Close Western Painting From The 14th To 20th Centuries Claire D Harcourt? Frank Lloyd Wright Companion for Windows Chronicle Books Frank Lloyd Wright Companion Chronicle Books Journal-Forbidden Planet (Turner Classic Movies) Kid Snaps (Series Snapshot Screen Books) Waves and Plaques The Art of Masami Teraoka Howard A. Link? The American Revolution As Described by British Writers and the Morning Chronicle and London Advertiser Elizabeth R. Miller? Cheerleader Elissa Stein Splish Splash Liz Boyd? Marking Time (Cazalet Chronicle, Vol. 2) Elizabeth Jane Howard?Jill Balcon? Elk Daniel Cox? WINGED MIGRATION THE JUNIOR EDITION Stephane Durand?Guillaume Poyet? Little Joe's Italian Cookbook Franco Montarello? The Chronicle of King Edward the First, Surnamed Longshanks With the Life of Lluellen, Rebel in Wales George Peele?George Kelsey Dreher? Cities in the Sand The Ancient Civilizations of the Southwest Scott S. Warren? The Morning Chronicle Survey of Labour and the Poor Henry Mayhew? Harp Seal Pups Rei Ohara?Atsuko Otsuka? Griffin Sabine An Extraordinary Writing Box/Stationary Nick Bantock Here Today (Artcards) Susan Middleton? Woody Herman Chronicle of the Herds (The Companion Series) Steve Allen?William D. Clancy?Audree Coke Kenton? The Fletch Chronicle, Three Fletch's Fortune, Fletch's Moxie, and Fletch and the Man Who (Rediscovery Books) Gregory McDonald? So Crazy Japanese Toys Rodney Alan Greenblat?Jimbo MatisonMichael Garlington? Cruise-O-Matic Automobile Advertising of the 1950's Yasutoshi Ikuta? Guess What? (Peek-a-Boo Books) Taro Gomi Harmony by Hand Art of the Southwest Indians Basketry, Weaving, Pottery Patrick Houlihan?Gerald L. Collings? Robert Mapplethorpe Dog Dreams/Bookcards (Prepack of 6) Margaret Moulton?Debra Lande? The Silent House A Chronicle of Aglirta (Greenwood, ed) Ed Greenwood? Wapshot Chronicle/10085 J Cheever? World War II in Chronicle Consumer Guide? Out of the Fire Contemporary Glass Artists and Their Work Bonnie J. Miller? The Art of Japan Masterworks in the Asian Art Museum of San Francisco Yoshiko Kakudo? Beauty Things to Make and Do (Crafty Girl) Jennifer Traig?Julianne Balmain?Stephanie Sadler? Raiders! Oakland's Spectacular Championship Season San Francisco Chronicle? Jefferson in Paris A Chronicle of the Film Mel Weiser? History, Harmony, the Exile and Return Eugene W. Faulstich? Rolling Stone Decades of Rock Chronicle Books Tracks in the Sky Wildlife and Wetlands of the Pacific Flyaway Peter Steinhart?Tupper Ansel Blake? Cal 95 Native American Spirit Wall Danger Is My Business An Illustrated History of the Fabulous Pulp Magazines/1896-1953 Lee Server? Robert Mapplethorpe Shadow War A Poetic Chronicle of September 11 and Beyond Louis Daniel Brodsky? Vision and Revision Hand Colored Prints by Wayne Thiebaud (Limited Edition Slipcase) Wayne Thiebaud? Cal 99 Magical Menagerie Calendar Things I Can Make With Buttons Sabine Lohf? The Morning Chronicle Survey of Labour and the Poor Henry Mayhew? Fifty Northwest Artists Bruce Guenther? Chronicle Of 20th Century Spor Land of Lincoln, Thy Wondrous Story 150th Jubilee Chronicle of the Illinois State Society of Washington, D.c. Mark Q. Rhoads? Things I Can Make With Boxes Sabine Lohf? Winka Dubbeldam Architect (Con-Tex-Ture) Winka Dubbeldam?Michael Speaks? Sylvia Long's Little Rabbits/Artcards (Chronicle Artcards Series) Sylvia Long James McNair's Pie Cookbook James McNair?Patricia Brabant? The Little Chronicle of Magdalena Bach Esther Meynell? Journal-King Kong (Turner Classic Movies) Breaking Bounds (Chronicle Artcards Series) Lois Greenfield An Intimate Chronicle The Journals of William Clayton William Clayton?George D. Smith? Robert Mapplethorpe P.S. I Love You (Art Cards) Barbara Lavallee? While Six Million Died A Chronicle of American Apathy Arthur D. Morse? Shadow War A Poetic Chronicle of September 11 and Beyond Louis Daniel Brodsky? Dublin The Complete Guide Hugh Oram? Musical Chronicle, 1917-1923 Paul Rosenfeld? The Naval Chronicle The Contemporary Record of the Royal Navy at War, 1793-1798 (The Naval Chronicle , No 1) Nicholas Tracy? Lockerbie Trial Nathan Coley? Extra Spatial Kim Colin? Chronicle of Books (Longman Book Project) Sallie Purkis? Men! James Gardiner? Cool Stuff Things to Make and Do (Crafty Girl) Jennifer Traig?Julianne Balmain?Stephanie Sadler? The Baseball Chronicle A Decade-By-Decade History of the All-American Pastime Larry Burke?Paul Ladewski? Everyday Home Repairs (Do It/Purchase As a Prepack of 6) Chronicle Of The Olympic Games Farewell Perestroika A Soviet Chronicle Boris Kagarlitsky?Rick Simon? Stephen De Staebler The Figure Stephen Destaebler?Donald Kuspit?Lynn Gamwell?San Francisco Museum of Modern Art? Seemore Readers Mars (Level 1) Seymour SimonChronicle Books The Wapshot Chronicle (G K Hall Large Print Perennial Bestseller Collection) John Cheever? 1995 Wall Cal Native Amer Wm Nancy Hathaway? The Morning Chronicle Survey of Labour and the Poor Henry Mayhew? Seemore Readers Mars (Level 1) Seymour SimonChronicle Books Guitarmaking Tradition and Technology A Complete Reference for the Design Construciton of the Steel-String Folk Guitar the Classical Guitar William R. Cumpiano?Jonathan D. Natelson? Chronicle of Gujrat, November 1901 A.C. Elliot? Fuzz and Fur Liz Boyd? Cinderella Francesc Boada?Monse Fransoy?James Surges? Cal 95 Good Dog By Nature's Design (An Exploratorium Book) William Neill?Pat Murphy?Exploratorium (Organization)? Wild Horse Winter Tetsuya Honda? 1995 Wall Cal Frida Kahlo Inc. Marquand Books? The Chronicle of King Edward the First Surnamed Longshanks With the Life of Lluellen Rebel in Wales George Peele?George Kelsey Dreher? Irish Proverbs Karen Bailey? Great Paintings the Frick Collection for Mac Chronicle Books Designer's Guide to Samurai Patterns (Designer's Guide to Japanese Patterns) Jeanne Allen 50 West Coast Artists A Critical Selection of Painters and Sculptors Working in California H. Hopkins? New England Chronicle News of New England for January 1722-December 1731 Armand F. Lucier? The Bay Area's Best Restaurants The San Francisco Chronicle Guide Patricia Unterman? Sand for Snow A Caribbean-Canadian Chronicle Robert Edison Sandiford? Cal 95 Kinsey Locomotive Portraits/Easel Darius Kinsey?Tabitha May Kinsey? History of the World A 6000 Year Chronicle of Time Trip Snaps (Series Snapshot Screen Books) Essential Car Care Do It! (Do It/Purchase As a Prepack of 6) Mahayamsa Or, the Great Chronicle of Ceylon Wilhelm Geiger? On Flowers/Prepack of 6 (Bookcard Series) Chronicle Books Robert Mapplethorpe Creatures (Bookcard Series) Beth Van Hoesen? Great Paintings the Frick Collection for Windows Chronicle Books Oaxacan Woodcarvings Studio Calen Kilim The Complete Guide History Pattern Technique Identification Alastair Hull?Jose Luczyc-Wyhowska? Peckertracks A Chronicle Stan Dragland? The Morning Chronicle Survey of Labour and the Poor Henry Mayhew? Cottage Book Richard Sexton? Wapshot Chronicle John Cheever? At the Beach Calendar 1995 Bijou, Bonbon Beau The Kittens Who Danced for Degas Joan Sweeney?Leslie Wilson Wu? Robert Mapplethorpe Grow Great Annuals (Do It/Purchase As a Prepack of 6) Absinthe History in a Bottle Barnaby Conrad? Go for It Martha Douglas? Beautiful Bulbs Georgeanne BrennanMimi LuebbermannFaith Echtermeyer

• elvis @Wiki - Chronicle Books 14

  https://w.atwiki.jp/elvis/pages/1322.html

  A Little Book of English Teas (Little Cookbook) Rosa Mashiter? Wild Kittens Peggy Bauer?Erwin Bauer? A Little German Cookbook (Little Cookbook) Gertrud Philipine Matthes?Ruth Bleakley-Thiessen? The Undersea Treasure Hunt Find The Treasure With Little Fish And Friends! Sue Harris?Stephanie Boey? Weekends for Two in New England 50 Romantic Getaways (Weekends for Two) Bill Gleeson?Cary Hazlegrove? Weekends for Two In The Southwest 50 Romantic Getawys (Weekends for Two) Bill Gleeson?Cary Hazlegrove? The History Of Vegas Stories Jodi Angel? Poker Bets, Bluffs, And Bad Beats A. Alvarez? Bintou's Braids Sylviane A. Diouf?Shane W. Evans? Murder Alfresco A Sunny Mccoskey Napa Valley Mystery (Sunny McCoskey Napa Valley Mysteries) Nadia Gordon? The Asian Grill Great Recipes, Bold Flavors Corinne Trang? Window To The Future The Golden Age Of Television Marketing And Advertising Steve Kosareff? Victorian Cats/Book and Postcards (Postbox Collections) Roger Essinger? You Can Do It! The Merit Badge Handbook For Grown-up Girls Lauren Catuzzi Grandcolas?Yvette BozziniJulia Breckenreid The Knot Guide for the Mother of the Bride Carley Roney?Cindy Luu? Hitting the Road The Art of the American Road Map Douglas A., Jr. Yorke?John Margolies? Striptease Kit Everything You Need to Take it All Off Jennifer Axen?Leigh Phillips?Barbara McGregor? Worst Case Scenario Survival Handbook to University Joshua Et Al Piven? A Little Jewish Cookbook (Chronicle Books Little Cookbook) Barbara Bloch?Fiona Leibowitz? Dragons and Fabulous Beasts The Book of Symbols (Prospero's Library) Postmark Paris A Story In Stamps Leslie Jonath? Phyllo Easy Recipes for Sweet and Savory Treats Jill O Connor?Susan Marie Anderson?Christopher Conrad? Something Wonderful Artists Outside the Mainstream (Artboxes) Various artists? The Girl's Guide To Surfing Andrea McCloud?Symbolon? Country Cooking of France Willan?Anne Willan? The Stripper's Guide To Looking Great Naked Jennifer Axen?Leigh Phillips? Journal Spill It Sister (Tainted Ladies) Anne Taintor? Casa Colombiana Living in the Latin Style Architecture, Landscape, Interior Design Benjamin Villegas? Eternal Mexico Robert Frerck?Jose Iturriaga? He Said, She Said Daisy De Villeneuve Yellow Submarine John Notepad Chronicle BooksApple? Arts and Crafts of Thailand William Warren?Luca Invernizzi Tettoni?Luca Invernizzi? Tenorman A Novella David Huddle? Taintor Journal Hmm What Can I Buy Today (Tainted Ladies) Anne Taintor? Angela Adams Lulu Mix And Match Stationery Angela Adams Yellow Submarine Paul Notepad Chronicle BooksApple? Costumes for Your Cat Lynn Chang "Each Night We Slept In The Same Bed And Nothing Happened," she said Notepad (Dating Divas) Daisy De VilleneuvePocko Editions? Mark Adams A Way With Color Essay Mark Adams?Lorna Price?Calif.) John Berggruen Gallery (San Francisco? How to Be a Villain Evil Laughs Secret Lairs Master Plans and More Neil Zawacki?James Dignan? Artist In Overalls The Life of Grant Wood John Duggleby? Manhattan Skyscrapers 30 Postcards Norman McGrath? Little Miss Liberty Chris Robertson? Games For Your Brain United States (Games for Your Brain) Tina L. Seelig? Games For Your Brain Human Body (Games for Your Brain) Tina L. Seelig? Winter Dreams Chronicle Books A, B, See! Marilyn Janovitz? Easy Orchids Simple Secrets for Glorious Gardens, Indoors and Out (Garden Style Book) Mimi LuebbermannFaith Echtermeyer Wonder Woman Photo Album Inc. DC Comics? He Said I Was 'Freaky' Notepad Apparently I Shouldn't Interperet This As An Insult (Dating Divas) Daisy De VilleneuvePocko Editions? LA Parilla The Mexican Grill Reed Hearon?Larry L. Smith? 24 Strange Little Animals The Haunted House (24 Strange Little Animals) Graham Percy? A Little Coffee Cookbook (Little Cookbook) Janet Laurence?Catherine McWilliams? I Am Cherry Alive Poem Delmore Schwartz?Sara Jane Boyers?George Condo? Autumn Nights, Winter Mornings A Collection of Cold-Weather Comfort Foods Barbara Scott-Goodman?Mary Goodbody?Andrea Brooks? Yellow Submarine Ringo Notepad Chronicle BooksApple? Joy David Shrigley Art Of The Incredibles Walt Disney CompanyPixar Animation Studios Plant Seeds and Pick the Blooms 36 Seed Affirmations for a Life of Balance, Creativity, and Fulfillment Lynne Franks?Ann Field The Fitness Ball Deck 50 Exercises for Toning, Balance, And Building Core Strength Olivia H. Miller? Cheerleader Ready? Okay! 30 Postcards Elissa Stein Wild Puppies Peggy Bauer?Erwin Bauer? Just Friends Routine Notepad (Dating Divas) Daisy De Villeneuve A Little Book of Tropical Drinks (Little Cookbook) Claire Clifton?Cathy Henderson? Yellow Submarine George Notepad Chronicle BooksApple? Victorian Christmas Cats (Giftworks) Roger Eisinger? Magic The Book of Symbols (Prospero's Library) Kate Langley? 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Grimm's Grimmest Tracy Arah Dockray?Maria Tatar? The Earth Shook, The Sky Burned 100th Anniversary Edition A Photographic Record of the 1906 San Francisco Earthquake And Fire William Bronson?

• ディズニー データベース - テイラー・ホルブルック

  https://w.atwiki.jp/wrtb/pages/3563.html

  テイラー・ホルブルック 名前：Taylor Holbrook デビュー：『モンスターズ・ユニバーシティ』（2013年） 概要 紫色の肌にピンク色の髪の三つ目女性モンスター。 モンスターズ・ユニバーシティ*の学生で、「パイソン・ニュー・カッパ*」に所属している。 登場作品 2010年代 2013年 モンスターズ・ユニバーシティ モンスターズ・パーティ

• elvis @Wiki - Chronicle Books 15

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  Animals Marco Polo Saw Chronicle Books You Can Wear It Again A Celebration of Bridesmaids' Dresses Meg Mateo Ilasco? A Little Szechuan Cookbook (Little Cookbook Series) Terry Tan?Sherri Tay? The Tempest Marianna Mayer?Lynn Bywaters Ferris?Lynn Bywaters? We Gather Together... Now Please Get Lost! Diane De Groat? Tour America A Journey Through Poems And Art Diane Siebert?Diane Diane Siebert?Stephen Johnson? Hare And the Tortoise/la Liebre Y La Tortuga (Bilingual Fairy Tales) M. Eulalia Valeri?Max? Hare And the Tortoise/la Liebre Y La Tortuga Liebre Y La Tortuga (Bilingual Fairy Tales) M. Eulalia Valeri?Max? Rapunzel / Rapunzel (Bilingual Fairy Tales) Francesc BofillJacob GrimmWilhelm GrimmJoma? Rapunzel / Rapunzel (Bilingual Fairy Tales) Francesc BofillJacob GrimmWilhelm GrimmJoma? Aladdin and the Magic Lamp/Aladino Y La Lampara Maravillosa (Bilingual Fairy Tales) Josep Vallverdu?Pep Montserrat? Aladdin And the Magic Lamp/ Aladino Y La Lampara Maravillosa (Bilingual Fairy Tales) Josep Vallverdu?Pep Montserrat? The Three Little Pigs / Los Tres Cerditos (Bilingual Fairy Tales) Merce Escardo I. Bas?Merce Escardo I Bas?Pere Joan? Three Little Pigs / Los Tres Cerditos (Bilingual Fairy Tales) Merce Escardo I. Bas?Merce Escardo I Bas?Pere Joan? Playboy Helmut Newton Hugh M. HefnerWalter Abish?Helmut Newton? Star Wars The Toys (Postcard Books) Chronicle Books Children's Miscellany Useless Information That's Essential To Know Matthew Morgan?Samantha Barnes?Niki Catlow? Fuck This Book Bodhi Oser? Goddess Wisdom Aphrodite, Artemis and Athena (Little Wisdom Library , So3) Manuela Dunn Mascetti? IOU Sex The Gift That Keeps On Giving...To Both Of You (Cheque Books) The Best Bake Sale Cookbook Barbara Grunes? Healthy Home Workbook Easy Steps for Eco-friendly Living Kimberly Rider? Dead Game A John Marquez Crime Novel (John Marquez Crime Novels) Kirk Russell? Once upon a Lily Pad Froggy Love in Monet's Garden Joan Sweeney?Kathleen Fain? Dinopix Teruhisa Tajima? Books to Check Out For Kids A Journal Jessica Dacher? Immortal Cranes Boston Museum of Fine Arts The Pregnancy Journal A Day-By-Day Guide to a Healthy and Happy Pregnancy A. Christine, Ph.D Harris? Arts Crafts of Morocco James F. Jereb? Bed and Breakfast Ireland Elsie Dillard?Susan Causin? Cleo's Christmas Dreams Pierre Le-Tan? Kid Stuff Great Toys from Our Childhood David Hoffman?Viktor Budnik? Bride Groom First And Forever Recipe Box Mary Corpening BarberSara Corpening Whiteford? Cooking Secrets of the CIA Culinary Institute of America?Pavlina Eccless? Observations in an Occupied Wilderness William L. Fox?Carol McCusker?Terry Falke? Vincent's Colors Words And Pictures by Vincent Van Gogh Vincent Van Gogh?William Lach?N.Y.) Metropolitan Museum of Art (New York? Penguin Dreams (I Can Sleep Book) J.otto SeiboldV. L. Walsh? Off to the Sweet Shores Africa And Other Talking Drum Rhymes Uzo Unobagha?Julia Cairns? New Parent Apology Cards 30 Ways To Apologize For Your Child- Anytime, Anywhere Lane Walker Foard? Valentine Kit (Decorative Arts) Carey Jones My Missmatched Life A Marvelous, Zany, Kooky, Fabulous Scrapbook Modern Asian Flavors A Taste of Shanghai Richard Wong?Noel Barnhurst? On the Edge of Magic Petroglyphs and Rock Paintings of the Ancient Southwest Salvatore Mancini? The Blues Album Cover Art Graham MarshBarrie Lewis? 1001 Pearls of Wisdom David Ross? The Acme Catalog Quality Is Our #1 Dream Charles Carney?Scott Gross? Good Night! Claire Masurel?Marie H. Henry? Mothers and Sons In Their Own Words Mariana Ruth Cook?Isabel Allende? Catnip Artful Felines From The Metropolitan Museum Of Art Carolyn Vaughan? Inside Maverick's Portrait of a Monster Wave Bruce Jenkins?Grant Washburn?Richard Schmidt?Doug Acton? Squeak Carnwath Lists, Observations Counting Squeak Carnwath? The New Artist's Manual The Complete Guide to Painting and Drawing Materials and Techniques Simon Jennings City Walks Rome 50 Adventures on Foot (City Walks Deck) Martha Fay? City Walks Deck Washington, Dc 50 Adventures on Foot (City Walks) China Williams?John Spedman? Vinnie and Abe Lincoln Bardham?Sudipta Bardhan-Quallen? Keeker And the Horse Show Show-off (Sneaky Pony Series) Hadley Higginson?Maja Andersen Chronicle?Maja Andersen? Cities of Europe Correspondence Cards Laura Tarrish? Nancy Drew Address Book Carolyn Keene Paint Recipes A Step-By-Step Guide to Colors and Finishes for the Home Liz Wagstaff? A Little Book of Viennese Pastries (Little Cookbook Series) Jeni Wright?Aislinn Adams? The Haunted Showboat Notepad (Nancy Drew) Carolyn Keene The Devil A Visual Guide to the Demonic, Evil, Scurrilous, and Bad Genevieve Morgan?Tom Morgan? Striking Images Vintage Matchbook Cover Art Monte Beauchamp? Celtic Saints Martin Wallace?Ann Macduff? Nick Jr Let's Count! 6 Puzzles Blocks, 6 Puzzles to Solve Chronicle Books Star Wars Behind-The-Scenes (Postcard Books) Chronicle Books Seeing Jazz Artists and Writers on Jazz Marquette Folley-Cooper?Deborah Macanic?Janice McNeil?Elizabeth Goldson?Robert O Meally? Good Mornings Great Breakfasts and Brunches for Starting the Day Right Michael McLaughlin? Okavango Africa's Last Eden Frans Lanting?Christine Eckstrom? Madhur Jaffrey's Quick and Easy Indian Cooking Madhur Jaffrey?Philip Salaverry? Hot Dog And Bob And the Seriously Scary Attack of the Evil Alien Pizza Person (Hot Dog and Bob) Lissa Rovetch?Dave Whamond? Polenta Over 40 Recipes for All Occasions Brigit Legere Binns? Pizzette Little Pizzas for Appetizers, Snacks, Entrees, and More Lou Seibert Pappas?Robert Clyde Anderson? Marcia Lippman's Angels A Book of Postcards Marcia Lippman? Potpies Yummies in a Dish Elinor Klivans?Scott Peterson Fit Mama A Real-life Fitness Guide for the New Mom Stacy Denney?Kate Hodson? 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Litten Wanderlust USA Journal Troy Litten? Wanderlust USA Troy M. Litten Wanderlust Mix and Match Stationary (Mix Match Stationery) Troy M. Litten Mothers and Sons In Their Own Words Mariana Ruth Cook?Isabel Allende? Newborn Photographs Beverly J. Ornstein?Howard Schatz? Genius Deck for Kids 75 Mind Mazes (Genius Decks for Kids) Genius Deck for Kids 75 Brain Bafflers (Genius Decks for Kids) Genius Decks Secret Codes for Kids (Genius Decks for Kids) Genius Deck for Kids 75 Word Puzzles (Genius Decks for Kids) Genius Deck 75 Color Puzzles (Genius Decks) Genius Decks 72 Word Puzzles (Genius Decks) Genius Deck 75 More Word Puzzles (Genius Decks) Genius Deck 75 Puzzle Challenges (Genius Decks) Genius Decks Number Puzzles (Genius Decks for Kids) Does This Cape Make Me Look Fat? Pop Psychology for Superheroes Chelsea CainMarc Mohan? 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